


Stolen Hearts

by tenthdoctor



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, General, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenthdoctor/pseuds/tenthdoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first twenty years of her life, nothing happened. Nothing at all. Not ever. And then, she met a thief called the Doctor. ("Good to meet you, Rose Tyler. I'm the Doctor." He says her name in such a way, as if he's testing how well it fits on his tongue, and it makes her stomach flutter.) [Ten/Rose]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is simply something I wrote when I become bored one day; then, I got kind of attached to it, so I continued.

On January 3rd of 2006, it's ridiculously cold, and for the first time in what seems like forever, there's a light layer of snow that has accumulated on the ground. Rose has been working for the past six hours straight today, and every muscle in her body feels like it's going to give up. Her cheeks and nose are all bright red and her toes feel ready to fall off. It's now that she wishes she knew how to drive so she doesn't have to walk the six blocks to her flat. One of these days she's going to get frost bite. She needs to find someone willing to drive her around on the days that she works. Shareen, maybe, as her friend still owes her after that day in France from when they were thirteen.

Her fingers are numb from the cold and her breath curls up in front of her like white smoke. She brushes a piece of hair behind her ear and tucks a strand underneath her hat so it won't fall out as often. She folds her arms over her chest, wishing she'd worn more layers.

She's wearing a pink sweatshirt with another blue hoodie underneath. In the morning rush, she'd settled with wearing an new, but thin pair of jeans. They don't offer her much protection from the biting cold. At least she had thought enough to bring the purple hat and the long, colorful scarf that dipped down just below her knees, both of which she was wearing right now. Still, she found that her neck and ears were still cold. She regrets being so hasty while choosing clothing.

She begins to walk a little quicker, her gaze lowered to the ground. She kicks lightly at the snow, watching as it swirls up into the air and catches the wind, spiraling continuously higher into the sky. The cold nips at her skin and she tries her best to ignore it, keeping her pace quick. She feels chilled to the bone, and walking quickly doesn't seem to be warming her.

In the distance, she can hear police sirens blaring, splitting through the air. She glances behind her, wondering if she could see where the sirens were coming from, and if they were anywhere near her. There was nothing there, so they must have been farther downtown, which isn't exactly a surprise. If criminals were to run through this part of town, they would be caught quickly; there wasn't many places to go around here. An awful lot of the alleys were dead ends, and if they weren't, they just wound in a square.

Several more sirens were turned on and Rose shivered, hoping that it would end all right. The last time so many sirens had been on was in March last year, when the Henrik's store had been blown up. There still wasn't an explanation for what had caused the explosion, but there had been so many police surrounding the area for days afterward, looking through rubble for clues, which they never found.

Rose had lost her job for several months after that, until just one month ago, when they had finished rebuilding it and called Rose back to hire her.

But anyway, that wasn't the point.

The point was, sirens aren't a new thing for her. She hears sirens all the time while walking home from Henrik's, and yet, something about it right now makes her feel a little uncomfortable. Her skin tingles and her stomach beings to feel a little unsettled. She shivers and looks straight ahead again, tensing up a little as she walks.

She stops at the nearest coffee shop and orders a vanilla coffee, smiling tiredly at the employee. He smiles back and happily fixes her what she ordered. She sees him write his number down on the side of the cup, but she pretends she didn't. She wouldn't call him. Rose hardly has time for dating anymore, and she's got a boyfriend, anyway. She digs through her wallet for a few moments, searching for a fiver, and then tosses it onto the counter. "Happy New Years," he says as Rose turns to leave, and she nods in thanks, smiling.

"Happy New Years. Make it a good one," she replies as she exits, tucking the change into her pocket. She waits outside of the shop for a few minutes, watching the snow drift down from the sky and settle over her footprints. She sighs and takes a sip of her coffee, smiling in relief as warmth floods her mouth. The sirens, she realizes with a twinge of fear, are much closer than they had been before. Maybe she shouldn't have stopped. She quickly takes off again, her hand tight around the cup.

There's no reason to be scared, and she knows it. The police must have the situation under control, whatever that situation is. She risks a glance behind her and tenses as she realizes the sirens were only a few blocks down. She can see the red and blue lights bouncing off of buildings, glowing in the darkness. Were they chasing someone? Taking a deep breath, she forces herself to stare straight ahead and calm down, pushing her nerves into the back of her head, repeating to herself that she shouldn't worry.

And then, something hits her. Literally. Something smashes against her shoulder, with enough force to throw her down to the ground. She yells and stumbles, her ankle twisting in the process. Pain grips her leg and she tries to ignore it, gritting her teeth. The cup falls from her grip and splashes onto the sidewalk, melting the snow and staining it brown. She catches her balance just before she falls, and then straightens as quickly as she can, looking at what hit her.

Her gaze meets a man's. His eyes are wide and brown and deep and actually a little intimidating, despite how kind they seem to look. He's standing at an odd angle, his knees bent a little, so clearly he hadn't intended to crash into her. They are both frozen to the spot and Rose holds her breath. His stare is a little curious, looking her up a down. She feels a little uncomfortable when he does so, but he doesn't seem to mean anything by it, other than he's trying to figure out who she is.

Something sparks inside of her as she does the same as him - a spark of thrill. He's dressed in all black with a black balaclava drawn over his head, and she can't gather anything off of that except that _he_ is the one the police are after.

She _should_ be scared. She knows she should be. But for some reason, she isn't. She's curious and she's confused, but there is no fear in her at all. She can feel excitement pulsing through her veins and she straightens further, tucking a blonde lock of hair that has fallen loose behind her ear again. Her hat has gone askew and she can't be bothered to fix it, so she simply takes it off and holds it, the coldness forgotten for now.

He takes a step away from her, his eyes narrowing, and for a moment, she thinks he's going to draw a gun on her. Still, she's not scared. Well... maybe just a little. The thought of being shot by him does make her a little worried, but curiosity still clouds it over. She cocks her head and frowns, moving her hand up to rub her arm. The sirens are getting closer, but neither of them move for some reason. In the back of her mind, she doesn't quite understand why he hasn't taken off running yet.

"Sorry," he says suddenly, taking another step back, rocking back on his heels. His hand reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Rose stares at him in disbelief. She almost laughs, but nothing comes out. Her throat and mouth are both too dry to speak. Did he just apologize to her? Did a criminal - a man wanted by the police - just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and say he was sorry for bumping into her?

Suddenly, a screeching sound pierces the air; the sound of wheels skidding across the road at an odd angle. Rose ducks her head, hands going to protect her ears from the loud sound. The man jumps, his hands clenching into fists, and he shifts his position, crouching a little. A spark of excitement floods his gaze and he smirks, his head tilting. Rose swirls around on her heels, heart pounding. She's not curious anymore. That's all been drained out of her, because suddenly, there are officers pooling out of several different police cars that have driven out of an alley at high speed, and all of the officers have guns pointed at both her and the man's head. They're both surrounded on both the left and the right. Behind and in front of them are buildings, so there is no way to escape there.

"Down on your knees," one of them barks, but Rose is frozen to the spot, unable to move. It occurs to her that she should raise her hands above her head in a surrender, but feels like if she even twitched, they would fire a bullet at her. Several of the men take a few steps forward, towards them, and Rose feels utterly helpless, her heart pounding so hard, she feels as though it's going to explode in her chest.

Lights from flashlights and car's headlights are blinding her. She has to squint to make out who is threatening her. To make a rough guess, it seems to Rose that there are probably about fifty men surrounding them all together. Fifty men? All after one man? Who on Earth was he?

"I'm not," Rose tries to speak, but one of them cocks their guns and takes another step forward, so she stops, squeezing her eyes shut tight, a shudder passing through her body. _I'm not with him_ , she thinks, shaking a little. Would they shoot her? What about her mum? What about Mickey? What would they think upon hearing that she had been arrested? Another command is shouted at them both, but Rose still can't move.

She can hear the light shuffling of footsteps coming in her direction, and she assumes it's the man. The criminal. The real and the only person they should be after. She wants to step away from him, thinking that maybe, if she's lucky, that'll make them realize that she has and wants nothing to do with this man, but suddenly, a hand grips hers, warm and tight, and she can feel his breath on her ear. "Run," he whispers, and she doesn't even try to stop him when he takes off to the right, dragging her along with him, his hand still gripping her's.


	2. Chapter 2

How they escaped still hasn't quite registered in her mind. She faintly recalls the man pulling a small pellet from his pocket and throwing it at the ground, and if she remembers correctly, smoke had flooded the area around them, separating them from the cops. Her throat still burns from the smoke and her eyes are watering, but adrenaline is pumping through her body. Rose is no longer cold. Her chest is heaving from the lack of air. They haven't stopped running for nearly eight minutes, and Rose isn't used to it. Her legs are sore and her stomach is beginning to ache.

Somewhere along to way, the man took off his balaclava. His hair sticks up in all directions, a deep, chestnut brown, like his eyes had been. His hand is still gripping hers, their fingers laced together, but for some reason, she doesn't quite mind. She finds it almost enjoyable for some reason and his hand is oddly warm. He squeezes her hand at one point and she squeezes his back, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

He keeps looking back at her, making sure she's okay, but there isn't enough light to make out his features. She can hear him chuckle every time she lets out a large breath, and every so often, he gives her arm a tug to pull her closer to him.

Finally, they stop at the edge of a park. There are only two trees in the small area, both of which have park benches underneath them. The grass has been covered by the white, powdery snow. Only a few green tufts are visible here and there. The sidewalk, which leads from this end of the park down to the other in a straight line, has been cleared. She pulls to a stop, heaving for breath. He doesn't seem to be affected by the amount of running at all. He lifts his gaze to look at the stars - the clouds seems to have disappeared - as he waits for her to regain her normal breathing. The moonlight lights up his face. She stares at him, bent over and hands resting on her knees. His hands are stuffed into his pockets and he's rather tall. She feels irritatingly short next to him.

He has a kind face, though, for a criminal. He has a roman nose and freckles dot his face. His hair is gelled up everywhere but the back; in the back, it still sticks up from static electricity due to when he had torn his hat off. His lips keep moving like he's saying something, but no words are coming out. It's almost like he's praying, but Rose doesn't understand why he would be doing so. She frowns and cocks her head, standing up and pursing her lips. He finally turns to look at her and, to her surprise, he smiles, and his eyes light up.

"Hello," he says, folding his arms behind his back and jumping up and down on his heels. "And who are you?"

She stares at him, her stomach flipping. He's frustratingly handsome, in a geeky sort of way, and it seems to be making her short of words. She swallows and then clears her throat. "Rose," she breathes out. She doesn't quite know why she's telling him her name, but something about his face makes him trust her. "Rose Tyler."

He sticks his hand out, nodding. "Good to meet you, Rose Tyler. I'm the Doctor." He says her name in such a way, as if he's testing how well it fits on his tongue, and it makes her stomach flutter.

Hesitantly, she reaches out and shakes his hand, withdrawing her hand quickly when he lets go. He notices, and he frowns. "Are you scared?" He asks, titling his head.

"No," Rose blurts out, even though it's a lie. He stares her down, and she glances sideways, shrugging. "A little."

He chuckles softly, and she looks back at him in confusion. "Don't be."

"You're a criminal."

He frowns and nods, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah," he draws out the word a little and then bites down on his lower lip. "But I'm not a bad person."

"How can I be sure?"

"You can't," he laughs, and then suddenly, he turns, and begins walking away, passing through the park. Rose stares after him, eyes wide. Confusion and frustration flutter through her.

"Hold on!" She stumbles after him, reaching for his wrist. He pulls away, sighing.

"Go home, Rose Tyler," he says, and she shivers at the tone of voice he uses. It almost sounds like some sort of a warning, and yet, she knows it isn't. He begins walking forward again, kicking lightly at the snow that has gathered around the edges of the sidewalk. She shakes her head and follows him.

"Go home? I can't! They've seen my face, I'm basically wanted now because of you."

He pulls to a stop as he realizes that she's right. He tenses up, and Rose takes a nervous step back, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. It occurs to her that he could be a dangerous man. Does he carry guns on him? She hasn't seen any yet, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have any hidden. She holds her breath, wincing as he swirls around on her, teeth gritted. His jaw is tight and he swallows, his chest moving a little quicker. He's quite clearly angry. At her?

"Where do you live?" He asks, and she frowns at him.

"Why should I tell you that? You could be a murder, for all I know!" She has no reason to trust this man, besides the fact that he had technically saved her from being arrested - and that brought up another question. Why? Why had this man, whom she had never met before, helped her? She was nothing to him. She suddenly realizes that he's closed the distance between them, and he's towering above her. She shrinks down a little, staring up at him with wide, scared eyes.

"Rose," he hisses. He isn't angry with her. He's trying to work something out. She can see his mind turning over and over in his eyes. He doesn't seem to be able to hide much - or, maybe he isn't trying.

"The Powell Estate," she finally says, and he groans, rocking back on his heels and raking his hands through his hair several times. "Where am I supposed to go?" She squeaks, taking another step away from him. Her heart is racing in her chest. "I've got my mum, you know, and my boyfriend. They'll be worried sick if I don't show up at home!"

The Doctor shakes his head, pressing his palm into his head. "Call them," he says roughly. "And then follow me."

"Follow you?" She laughs in disbelief. Still, her hand lowers to her pocket. It's empty, and she curses out loud.

He turns back to her, nodding. "Yes. Me. Follow me." His gaze lowers to her pocket. "Forgot your mobile?" His tone of voice has suddenly changed to one much softer and much kinder. She scowls a little, rolling her eyes. His mood changes quickly, and that's a little irritating, but, it makes her curious, too.

She finally nods and follows him despite her previous statement as he starts to walk again. He digs through his pocket for a moment and then hands her his mobile. She flips it open and types in her mum's number, sighing as it rings three times. On the fourth ring, her mum picks up.

" _Rose? Where on Earth are ya'? Beth is over, and she's been askin' bout-"_

"Mum, I'm not coming home tonight," she interrupts, pushing her hair behind her ear. She can feel the Doctor's gaze burning into her and she tries her best to ignore it.

" _What? Why? You all right sweet heart?_ "

"I'm fine, yeah. Just... Shareen. She's gotten all upset again, I'm stayin' at her place to help. I'll be home... sometime." Oh, God, how she hates this. Lying to her mum. She's done it plenty of times, but she can feel quilt clawing at her stomach, and it makes her feel horrible. Her mum makes some remark about how she's never home anymore, and Rose sighs.

"Love ya'," Rose says, looking over at the Doctor. He stares at her, his eyebrow arched.

" _I love you too, darling. Call me later, yeah?_ "

Rose nods, even though she knows her mum can't see her. "I will," she promises, and then her mum hangs up. Rose flicks the phone closed and passes it to the Doctor. He takes it from her gently and slips it into his pocket. He starts moving down the sidewalk, his gaze trained on the stars again.

Rose watches him move, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She doesn't quite understand what's going on. He hasn't explained, and yet, for some reason, she trusts him. "I'm following you," she says dumbly after a while. He spins around on his heels and begins walking backwards. He nods, cocking his head.

"Yes, you are."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Tyler. Why _are_ you following me? Besides the obvious, of course; that I asked you to."

Rose shakes her head, glancing at the ground. She decides to ignore that he had called her by her last name. She had known someone who had done that once, and it had always irritated her. Yet, when he says it, she simply begins to feel warm in her stomach, and she doesn't quite understand why. "I don't know. I trust you, for some reason. I don't even know who you are..."

"I'm the Doctor," he says, as if that's obvious.

"Yeah, I know. You said that. But Doctor what, exactly?"

He laughs and turns around on his heels, and Rose frowns. "I'm used to 'Doctor who'", he mumbles, and Rose sighs. He shakes his head after a few moments. "Just the Doctor."

"Your parents named you the Doctor?"

"No." And that's all he says, because he takes a sharp left and bounds up stairs to a door of a flat. Rose stops and waits, feeling nervous again. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to inside this lunatic's - this criminal's - house? He takes out his keys and pushes them inside the lock, shoving the door open. Inside is completely dark. Another reason not to go inside.

"Maybe I should just go to the police," Rose says, taking a step backwards, onto the road. A look of worry flashes in the Doctor's gaze.

"I wouldn't," he says softly, looking a bit sad.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. I'm warning you. Because right now, I'm the most wanted person in London, and they've just seen you with me. They know exactly what you look like, and chances are, they know your name already, too. If you go to the police, I can assure you that they will lock you up in a matter of seconds and question you."

Rose scowls, taking another step backwards. "If you're the most wanted person in London, why should I go into a suspicious looking house with you? You could be a murderer, for all I know."

He takes a cautious step down the stairs, shaking his head. "I'm not a murderer. I'm a thief."

She laughs coldly. "And that makes it better, does it?"

He sighs, and rubs at the back of his neck again. He seems to do that when he's frustrated or thinking. "You can go, if you want to. I'm just trying to help. I messed up, and I'm trying to fix my mistake."

Rose shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable. She glances from side to side. Chances were, there were police cars out there, and they were looking for both her and this Doctor man. She couldn't last long by herself. She bites down on her lip and sighs. "When can I go home?"

"I don't know," he says honestly. They both tense as police sirens begin to blare in the background. "It's now or never." Those words, along with the fear of being arrested, settle it for her. He offers a hand, and she walks up to the stairs and takes it, swallowing.

"I'm putting my trust in you, Doctor," she says softly, staring up into his eyes. He flashes her a dazzling smile and grips her hand tightly in his.

"I'll keep a tight hold on it, Rose Tyler."


	3. Chapter 3

Rose was surprised by how neat it was inside. In fact, if she hadn't known that this man - the Doctor - was a thief, she would have thought he was a completely normal person. When she walks in, to the right is the living room, which simply contains a couch in the middle of the room facing the wall. A television is pointed at the couch, set on a black table which is pushed up against the wall. In a hollow area on the desk, there was a white X-Box and several games. Pressed against the right wall of the room was a small bookcase. If she kept walking forward, she would reach the kitchen. From what she could see, it was perfectly normal, with a black and white tiled floor, a wooden kitchen table, a simple white fridge, counters, and cupboards. On the table she could see a cup resting on a newspaper. If you walked into the living room and walked straight forward, you would walk into another hallway, but Rose was unable to see what was down there.

Rose shifts from foot to foot, chewing on the inside of her lip. To her left, against the wall, is a long table. She rests her hat on it. The Doctor moves forward with a jerky movement. He takes a bag off of his shoulder - something Rose hadn't seen before - and throws it across the room onto the couch. Rose waits by the door uncertainly, watching him. He seems unsettled by something. _He doesn't want me here_ , Rose thinks, and for some reason, she's almost disappointed by that. She doesn't quiet know why. There's no reason that he should want her here.

He finally turns to look at her and they both stare at each other awkwardly. "I don't have to stay here, you know," she finally says softly, dragging her gaze away from him and letting it fall to the floor.

He doesn't respond. She glances up through her eyelashes and he shuffles into the kitchen and turns on a light. "You can come in from the door way, you know," he mumbles. Rose moves forward slowly, walking into the kitchen. The Doctor is sorting through his fridge, but it seems that he's simply trying to act busy.

Rose toys with her pink and blue hoodies, and then lets them go in surprise as her fingers come back wet. She hadn't realized that her clothing was wet, but now that she's thinking about it, her hoodies and hair are soaked. She pulls at them uncomfortably, frowning. The Doctor glances back at her, blinking as he realizes what she's doing.

"Hold on," he says, leaving the kitchen. He grabs onto the pillar and uses it to swing him around the corner, disappearing into the hallway. Rose stands still, waiting, confused. What was he doing? She hears him open the door and she's tempted to look, but knows it would probably be rude. He reappears a few minutes later, holding a light gray shirt. She blinks at him in surprise. He holds it out to her. "Not sure how well this will fit you," he admits, "but it's better than nothing."

She takes it and glances around. "There's a bathroom down the hall," he mumbles, and she nods uncomfortably. She turns to leave. The Doctor's gaze burns into her back as she does so, walking quickly down the hall. She finds the bathroom instantly, walking in and flicking on the light. She closes the door and locks it behind her. It's a rather small bathroom, but there's enough room for her to move around a bit. Quickly, she unzips the hoodies and lays them on the counter. She unfolds the shirt and slips it on, then glances into the mirror. The Doctor was right, it was a bit too big. She smiles as she she sees the print on the front; a picture of the Enterprise, from Star Trek.

She leans forward, rubbing her hands over her face. She feels strangely tired. From all the running, she decides. Sighing, she tugs the hair tie off of her wrist and pulls her hair up into a sloppy bun. She snatches up her clothing and walks back out into the hallway. Curiously, she glances around. There are two other doors. One must be the Doctor's, and she hopes that the other is an extra bedroom.

Yawning, she walks back to the kitchen, holding her clothing tightly. When she walks into the kitchen, there are two baskets of fish and chips on the table. The Doctor is nowhere to be seen. Uncertainly, she walks forward, resting her clothing on the counter. She walks back to the kitchen table and sits down, tucking her hands under her thighs. The Doctor reappears a few seconds later from the hallway.

"Fish and chips okay?" He asks, and she nods. He slides one of them towards her and she immediately reaches for the chips, biting into one. She hasn't had fish and chips in a while, which is a surprise, as it's one of her favorite foods. They watch each other in silence, and neither of them seem to be able to think of anything to say. Rose swallows what is in her mouth and leans forward, resting her arms on the table.

"Why are you a thief?" She asks, her eyes narrowing. It must be a brave question, because the Doctor's eyes flash with curiosity and surprise. Then, he smiles softly, ruffling his hair and leaning back in his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips together. He studies her, debating whether or not to tell her.

"The thrill," he finally says, his face expressionless. Rose blinks, surprised. She frowns and tilts her head, seeking clarification. He glances up at the ceiling, smiling and running his tongue along his bottom row of teeth. "I've never had a calm life. I'm used to action, and there weren't many jobs that provided that."

Rose laughs softly, shaking her head. She takes another chip and bites in it. She doesn't bother to swallow before speaking again. "And so you chose to be a thief?"

"Well," he draws the word out, taking one of his own chips. "Keeps the bills paid, keeps me in trouble." He shrugs.

"What do you steal?"

He takes a bite out of the chip, chewing slowly and staring at her. "Why don't you go see?" He finally says, nodding to the living room. Rose glances behind her, peering through the gap between the wall at the pillar. She can just see the bag he had thrown on the couch earlier. Glancing at him, she slowly stands up and enters the living room, moving towards the couch. Rose reaches down and picks up the bag, looking at the Doctor, who is leaning against the pillar, watching her expectantly.

Pursing her lips, she opens the bag and reaches inside. Gently, she pulls out the small object inside, and she immediately gasps. A small, silver ring sits in her hand, the diamond a bright, dazzling blue. "That's gorgeous," she whispers, turning it over in her palm. She looks back at him, biting on her lip.

"What do you do with it?"

"Sell it," he mumbles, walking towards her. He gently takes the ring from her, rubbing his thumb over the diamond on top.

"The police... they were really intent on catching you... why?"

He flashes her a quick smile. "I told you. I'm a very wanted thief. They would do anything to get their hands on me. Which is why I didn't want you going home. It's dangerous." For a second, she thinks he's going to say more, but he must decide against it, because he looks away from her and back to the ring.

Rose takes a deep breath, biting the inside of her lip. "Why do you care?" He frowns, cocking his head in confusion. "About me," she clarifies. "You've never even met me. And yet..." she pauses, glancing down at her feet. Her heart is hammering in her chest and she's almost afraid he's going to do something upon her next words. Hurt her, or throw her out, maybe. "Yet, you brought me to _your_ house... why?"

He stares at her, and the silence seems to drag on forever, until he finally speaks. "I don't know." The look on his face tells her to drop the subject, so she does. She sinks onto the couch and gently toes her shoes off, doing so slowly in case the Doctor doesn't want her taking them off in the living room. He says nothing about it, however. Instead, he turns and walks into the kitchen, reappearing a few seconds later with their dinner. He hands her her's and she takes it carefully, pulling her legs up and putting the food on the arm of the couch. The Doctor moves to the the other end of the sofa, sitting down in the seat. He leaves a cushion between them.

They settle into an awkward silence one more, silently eating their food. The Doctor finishes first. He pulls the paper from the basket and crumples it up. Then, he leans forward, his eyes trained on a trash bin in the corner of the room. He shoots it, and it lands just outside of the bin. Rose can't help but giggle. He glances at her, smiling a little.

"Mickey always misses, too," she says, without thinking. The Doctor tilts his head curiously.

"Mickey's your boyfriend?" He asks, moving to get the garbage and put it in the bin. Rose nods, shifting so that her back is to the arm of the sofa and her fish and chips are on the cushion in front of her.

"Can I call him?" Rose asks suddenly. Hopefully. He looks at her uncertainly before nodding.

"Just... don't tell him where you are and who you're with." He mumbles, and Rose nods, and then realizes how creepy his words sounded. Those are the words of someone who has kidnapped someone else. But, she doesn't think he'll force her to stay here. Not forever. If she wanted to leave, he would let her, although reluctantly.

He hands her his mobile once more and she flicks it open, ready to dial Mickey's number. And then, she stops, pursing her lips. What is she going to tell him, anyway? 'Hey, Mickey, I'm with Shareen, as usual, just thought you should know, even though I usually just text you. I thought I would call you this time.' She slowly sets the phone back down on the cushion and leans back, staring at the mobile. She can feel the Doctor staring at her, but he doesn't say anything.

She never calls Mickey when she's with Shareen, and Mickey is smart, even if he doesn't act it sometimes. He would know something was up. Hunching her shoulders, Rose finishes her food, and then crumples up her paper as well. She doesn't shoot for the bin however. Instead, she stands up, picking up the mobile, which she hands to the Doctor. He takes it from her, giving her a questioning look. She shrugs and then moves to throw away the wrapping.

Turning back to the Doctor, she folds her arms over her stomach and bites down on her lip. "So.. uhm... is there a room where I can... sleep?"

He stares at her for a few moments, looking confused, before he suddenly snaps to life, making Rose jump. "Ah! Yes! Sorry, yes, follow me." He quickly starts off down the hallway and Rose follows him quietly. He slips down to the room at the end of the hall, one door down from the bathroom, and pushes it open. "The guest room."

He walks in, flicking on the light. Rose follows him inside, looking around. There isn't much inside, and it isn't all that big, either. And yet, there's something welcoming about it, too. Maybe it's the light shade of pink that the walls are painted. The carpet is light pink, too. At home, both her walls and her carpet are hot pink. The bed is pushed up against the right wall. The sheets are white, and ironically enough, there are roses along the bottom. The pillows are just white. Against the wall across from them, there is a dresser with a mirror hung on the wall. Just to the left, when they first walk in, there is a desk with a television on top of it. Rose walks towards the bed and hops up on it, testing the softness. It's almost exactly like her bed at home. The Doctor stands in the doorway, watching her.

"I'm just across the hall, if you need anything," he says, motioning behind him. Rose nods and looks down at her lap. He nods as well. He doesn't say goodnight (not that he has a reason to, but it would have calmed her down at bit). He simply flicks off her light and leaves, closing the door behind him. Sighing, Rose lays down, squeezing her eyes shut tight. She wants to sleep, but she's fairly she won't be able to. Still, she crawls underneath the covers and pulls them up to her chin, shifting onto her side. She stares across the room for a while, her eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness. What was she meant to do in the morning? She didn't have a shift tomorrow at Henricks, and even if she did, she couldn't leave. Was she meant to stay here, at the Doctor's house all day? Would he stay with her?

She didn't have any answers, and she probably wouldn't be provided with them until morning. It would be best to at least try to sleep. Flipping over to face the wall, she curled up into a ball. Surprisingly enough, she was asleep almost as soon as her eyes closed.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose wakes up to a sweet smell. Her eyes flicker open and she tries to grip her fluffy pink pillow, only to remember where she is. Her heart drops and she brings her hands close to her body, clasping them together and tucking them underneath her chin. She stares at the wall, unwilling to move. She isn't dead; that's certainly a good sign. The Doctor hasn't come into her room and murdered her yet. _Unless this is Heaven (or Hell)_ , she thinks, and then snorts, rolling onto her backside so her gaze is directed at the white, bumpy ceiling.

Her fingers toy with the covers of the bed and she sighs, wondering what Mickey and her mum are doing right now. If they've tried to call her yet... have the police tried to talk to them about her? Did Jackie spend half of the night crying because the police told her that her daughter had run away with a mad man, and they hadn't found her yet? Or did Jackie and Mickey not even know?

A knocking at the door tears her from her thoughts, and she jumps, inhaling sharply. Was she meant to call out? After a few moments of silence, there's another knock. Rose clears her throat and sits up, glancing around the room. "Uhm... yeah?" She finally says. The door creaks open, and the Doctor's head pokes in. He looks around the room for a few moments before his eyes rest on her, still in bed. He opens his mouth to speak, and then closes it again, tilting his head.

"Did I wake you?" He asks, looking as though he feels guilty. Rose quickly shakes her head and peels the covers off of her body, gently lowering onto the ground. At some point during the night, she must have taken off her socks, because she's completely barefoot now. Her toes dig into the carpet and she stretches, ignoring it when her (or rather, the Doctor's) shirt hitches up, revealing a slice of her stomach. She lets one arm fall to her side, and then she reaches up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and yawning. With her other arm, she takes out her bun and lets her messy hair fall out.

The Doctor nods at her. "How do you feel about eggs?"

"Eggs would be lovely."

"Scrambled or poached? Or, better yet, I could Decipikrate them - that's not an actual word, by the way, don't try to use it in a sentence. Decipikrate! You hard boil the eggs, pour maple syrup on top of them, and sprinkle them with pepper."

Rose wrinkles her nose and the Doctor snorts in amusement at her reaction. "Scrambled will be fine," she says, rubbing at her arm. The Doctor nods and disappears, closing the door behind him. Rose sighs, and rubs her face with her hand. She looks towards the mirror, and to her surprise, her clothing is resting on the dresser, completely dry. She breathes out a sigh of relief and walks towards them, peeling off the Doctor's shirt and folding it up. She pulls on her blue hoodie, leaving her pink one on the dresser.

Trying to be quiet, she tip toes down the hallway and glances through the gap between the wall and pillar. The Doctor has a tall chair pulled up beside the stove, and he's stirring the food in the pan. It smells deliciously of eggs, and Rose's stomach growls. She hadn't realized how hungry she was. Straightening, she smooths down her shirt and then walks into the kitchen. The Doctor looks up, and nods as a greeting. Rose nods back. In the back of her mind, she wishes he would smile like the night before, just so that she would have been calmer.

She's still stupidly nervous around this man. Her heart is hammering against her ribs, and it's getting hard to draw in a normal breath. If the Doctor notices, he doesn't say anything about it. Rose slips into a chair and the Doctor reaches up to the cupboard and pulls down a plate. He turns the stove off, and then spoons some of the scrambled eggs onto the plate, which he hands to her. She takes it gratefully and risks flashing him a smile. He smiles back, but to Rose, it looks more like a ' _if I'm stuck with you, I may as well be kind_ ' smile. She swallows and looks in the opposite direction, frowning.

A fork clanks onto her plate and she looks down at it, picking it up. The Doctor sits at the opposite end of the table like the night before, only this time, their seats are switched. They don't look at each other as they eat, and they don't speak.

"Do you want me to pick up your phone from Henricks?" He asks suddenly, still chewing his food. Rose begins to nod, but then stops, freezing. He seems to realize his mistake because he freezes as well, looking worried.

"How did you know I work at Henricks?"

He runs his tongue along his lips, taking a deep breath and then slowly letting it out. He slowly stands up and places his plate into the sink. Rose stares at him, eyes narrowed. "I may have... done some research."

Rose snorts. "Why on Earth do you need to 'research' me?"

He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. Rose glares at him, taking the final bite of her eggs before stalking towards the sink and placing in her own plate. Then, she leans against the counter and crosses her arm, putting on a brave face (even though her heart is beating wildly). "Then how much do you know?"

He glances at her, sighing. "Enough. I'm not digging into you more." He moves to walk away, but Rose moves forward and grips his wrist tightly. The action surprises both of them and she quickly lets go, swallowing. She shifts uncomfortably, forcing herself to meet his gaze evenly. His eyes are hard and protected.

"How much? Exactly, how much?"

He clenches his jaw for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Finally, he relaxes, looking defeated. "I know your full name is Rose Marion Tyler. You're twenty, and you've been working at Henricks for three years, but not all together. I know you have no criminal record, except for a time that you were caught shoplifting with a friend..." he pauses, his eyes softening. "And I know your dad died when you were only a baby."

Rose felt a flash of anger jolt through her and she stiffens, her face flushing. "That's way too private. You didn't need to know that."

His eyes lower to the floor, and he swallows. She wants to feel bad for him, but she's too upset. He had no right digging into her background like that. "I know," he says guiltily. "I didn't mean to see it..."

Rose sniffs and looks away, swallowing the lump in her throat. She runs one hand through her hair and lets out a long breath. She knows that if she wants to be able to stay here, she can't spend every moment being mad at him. "Yeah... you can get my phone." She smirks, leaning her weight onto one side. "And you know what? You can get me a vanilla coffee, too, since you spilled my last one."

The Doctor lets out a giggle, his face brightening. "Did I?"

"Yeah, ya did! Twisted my ankle, too."

"You don't seem to be complaining about that."

"You're lucky, it wasn't bad."

The Doctor smiles softly at her (but, in the back of her head, she can't help but notice that it seems a little forced). He nods, puffing out his cheeks. "All right, Rose Tyler. I'll get your phone and your coffee." He crosses the room, towards the counter near the fridge and picks up his bag, pulling it over his head and letting it rest on his side. He studies her for a few moments, his head tilted. "I'll be back around six, probably. Uh... there's food in the fridge. You can watch the telly, or if you like, the X-box is hooked up."

Rose presses her lips together and nods, hoisting herself up onto the counter. The Doctor nods as well, then moves to the door. He opens it and he's halfway out before he stops. "Oh... and Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go into my room, please."

Rose doesn't get to ask why. He closes the door behind him, leaving her alone. She sighs, and wraps her arms around herself, looking around the room. Already, she's beginning to feel trapped and lonely. She wishes the Doctor would have stayed, even though it probably would have been a bit awkward. She'd much rather be put through something awkward than be alone in an unknown place for a day. She glances at the time and then groans. It isn't even ten yet. What is she meant to do for that long?

* * *

In the end, Rose fell asleep on the couch. She wakes up once or twice, once to use the bathroom and take a shower, and the other to get something to eat. Other than that, she's asleep the entire time. That is, until the Doctor comes home. He crashes through the door, stumbling forward. Rose sits up instantly, pulling her feet up to her chest and watching him in confusion. He slumps down onto the opposite end of the couch and groans, raking a hand through his thick hair (which is already standing up everywhere). He doesn't have her coffee, but he seems to be a little upset, so she decides not to pester him about it.

"What happened?" Rose asks in surprise, looking him over. He shakes his head and begins to dig through his pockets. Among several wallets (that don't belong to him) and coins and other items, he pulls out her phone and hands it to her. She takes it from him, nodding her thanks. She flicks her mobile open, and then groans. She has nearly twenty missed calls from Mickey, six texts from Shareen, and over thirty calls and texts combined from her mother.

"I should call her back," Rose sighs, rubbing her thumb over the phone. The Doctor doesn't reply other than glancing at her with tired eyes. Preparing herself for a rush of questions, Rose dials her mother's number and lifts the phone to her ear, standing up from the couch. Unlike the time before, her mum answers on the first ring.

" _Rose! Where are ya? Are you okay? Shareen said ya never even showed up at her place._ "

"I'm... I'm fine, yeah, I-"

" _Where are ya?_ "

"I'm just staying with someone for a bit."

" _Who? Is it a man?_ "

Rose bites down on her lip, lowering her gaze to the floor and rocking back on her heels. "Uhm... yes." Her mother gasps, and Rose winces, quickly correcting herself. "It's not like that! I promise. He's just helping me with something."

" _With what? What can possibly be so bad that you can't come home?_ "

Rose didn't know how to reply to that. She swallows, feeling guilt clawing at her stomach. She glances over to the Doctor, hoping he can offer a lie, but he appears to have fallen asleep, his head back against the couch and his eyes closed. Rose takes a deep breath, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm just not going to be home for a few days, okay?"

" _Rose, sweetie, if you're in trouble..._ "

"I'm not, not really. I promise. I'll call ya everyday, yeah?"

Her mum seems to consider it for a few minute before she sighs and agrees. " _Ya may want to call your boyfriend, too. He's been an idiot recently, keeps harrassin' me and trying to make me find ya. Keep tellin' 'im ya didn't want to be found..._ "

"All right, mum, I will. Call ya tomorrow, okay?"

" _All right, love..._ "

Rose reluctantly hangs up, then turns back to the Doctor. He's sat up straighter on the couch and is leaning forward, his face rested in his hands. He must not have fallen asleep as Rose had thought. "I feel really guilty..." she admits quietly after a few minutes, dropping her gaze to the floor. The Doctor bites his lip and arches an eyebrow, managing to look sympathetic. Rose shifts from foot to foot, still gripping her phone. She doesn't really want to call Mickey quite yet, although she knows she should. The Doctor stands up, stretching a bit before he sighs.

"Need something to take your mind off of it?"

Rose cocks her head, frowning. "What do you have in mind?"

He shrugs, putting on a smile. He gestures to the X-box, crossing his arms over his chest and rocking back on his heels. "How about some Netflix?"

Rose giggles softly at his suggestion, releasing a long breath. She glances towards the X-box and smiles. "Yeah... I think that sounds good."


	5. Chapter 5

Rose loses count of how many movies they watch in the end. She also loses track of how she ends up lying on the Doctor's chest in the morning. But, when she opens her eyes, that's exactly where she is. One of his hands is lightly rested on top of her head and his other arm is dangling over the side of the couch. His head is tilted back over the arm of the couch. Rose has one arm wound around his waist to keep her from falling off and the other is off the sofa, like the Doctor's. Their legs are tangled together, but not so much that it would be impossible for Rose to get out without waking him up. Slowly, she sits up, careful not to move him too much. Gently, she scoots backwards until her back hits the opposite arm of the couch and she draws her legs to her chest. The Doctor frowns and shifts in his sleep from the sudden loss of weight on him, but he doesn't wake up.

Rose takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes trained on him. Eventually, his face relaxes and he turns onto his side, curling into himself. She smiles softly, feeling warm. He looks rather cute like... Rose abandons the thought immediately and stumbles off of the couch, feeling her face flush in a bit of embarrassment. She can't be thinking things like that. The Doctor is a thief, and the only reason she is with him is because he got her mixed in with his life. He doesn't even want her to be here. Taking in a shuddering breath, Rose tiptoes lightly across the room towards the hallway, turning off the X-box and the television on the way out. Early morning sunlight was only just beginning to flutter through the windows, so the rooms were tinted a light blue.

She creeps down the dark hallway, letting her fingers trail along the wall and keeping the other arm out in front of her so that she doesn't bump into anything. She finally reaches her room, but before she opens it, she glances behind her. The Doctor's room is right there, the door cracked open. She tries to peer through the gap, hoping to see something that would offer some explanation as to why he hadn't wanted her going in there. However, all she can see is a bed with unmade covers.

Rose sighs and forces the thoughts away. It was very easily possible that the Doctor had simply not wanted her going inside because he wanted to preserve some sense of privacy. _Or_ , Rose thinks, frowning, _maybe he_ 's _got some murder weapon inside there or something..._ Rose rolls her eyes at her own thoughts and shoves the door to her room open. The Doctor isn't a murderer. She was nearly certain of that now. He was a bit odd in some senses, yes, but he was definitely only a thief. She doubted he would harm anyone. Besides, if he were a murderer, she probably wouldn't be alive right now.

Crossing the rooms, Rose sheds her current hoodie and throws it onto her bed, snatching her second one from the dresser and pulls it over her head. There is a comb resting on the dresser, too, so she drags that through her hair for a moment, attempting to make herself look at least a little presentable. Finally, she gives up, starting back towards the main rooms as quietly as she can. She winces as she runs her fingers through her knotted hair, tugging out a few strands by accident.

Sighing, Rose shuffles towards the kitchen table and sits down, staring sleepily across the room and ruffling her hair. She frowns, tilting her head. It was very early in the morning, according to the clock on the wall; only 6:30. She doubts the Doctor would be up for another hour or so. Rose suddenly sits up straighter, an idea forming in her head. This was Saturday. Most people didn't get up this early on a Saturday. Which meant that most of the police wouldn't be out and about...

She could easily slip out, just for a quick walk. She'd only been inside for one day, most of which she'd been asleep for, and she was already beginning to feel tired of being locked inside. Surely a walk wouldn't hurt, would it? She could pick up a coffee on the way. Making up her mind, Rose slips towards the front door, pulling on her shoes which have been dumped there, probably by the Doctor. She doesn't bother with socks. She quietly stands up and snatches her hat and scarf, pulling open the door and wincing when it creaks.

She's blasted with cold air and she shivers, throwing the scarf around her neck and pulling on her hat. She steps outside, and quietly closes the door behind her, listening for the click of the latch. _I'll be back before he can wake up_ , she promises herself, moving swiftly down the stairs. She glances up and down the street, and then starts to her right, towards the park. Digging into her pocket, she pulls out her wallet, checking how much money she has on her. Fifteen pounds. That should be enough for a coffee from her usual stop. She stuffs her wallet back into her pocket and keeps her hands inside. It seems to be even colder than it was the other night, when she met the Doctor.

She shivers and presses her arms to her side, trying to capture her warmth. She glances around, expecting to see someone, but to her surprise, the street is completely empty. It's freakishly quiet, too. Usually, even at this time of the morning, there were at least a few drunks wandering about, and some teenagers who have spent the night out. London almost never has empty streets. However, this time, it is, and it scares her a little.

Shaking it off, Rose begins to walk a little quicker, brushing back her hair. She's tempted to pull it back up, but she can't be bothered. She glances behind her, towards the Doctor's building. She nearly expects to see him stumbling out of the building, panicking and looking for her, but of course, he doesn't. She realizes that she feels guilty for just leaving him without a notice as to where she was going. Maybe she should have left him a note... however, it's too late, because she's already at the park, and she has no intentions of turning back around. Still, unwanted thoughts and questions kept tugging at her head.

Would he worry? Or would he simply shrug it off and get on with his day? She had no idea. She didn't know the Doctor well enough to decide. Abandoning the thoughts, Rose pulls out her phone. She has a new text from Mickey, questioning where she was and who she was with. Rose doesn't feel like answering him at the moment. She doesn't feel like lying again. So, she slips her mobile into her pocket and rounds the corner. The coffee shop is almost a block away, and she can see it from where she was walking.

She quickly approaches it and shoves the door open, sighing in relief at the warm air. The bell above the door - something Rose didn't even know was there - chimes as she walks in, and she jumps in surprise. The woman up front glances at her in surprise.

"Sorry," she says, putting a cup of her own coffee down on the table. "We just got that in yesterday, to avoid any thieves. Police said they chased one down here, but they lost track of him, so..."

Rose nods and walks up to the counter, brushing her hair back. "Uh, one vanilla coffee please... actually, wait. Make that caramel." The woman nods and sets to work. Rose leans forward on the counter, sighing and hanging her head. She breathes in the scent of the shop, welcoming the smell of coffee. A hand on her shoulder nearly makes her cry out in shock. She swirls around in surprise, heart stopping for a moment as she came eye to eye with familiar brown orbs. The Doctor takes a step away from her, his head titled. Rose stares at him, prepared to be yelled at, but he doesn't. He simply stares at her, which only seems to make Rose more nervous.

"Hello," he says finally, looking around the shop. Rose frowns, confused.

"Hello?" She replies, but it's more of a question. He doesn't respond to it, however, and Rose doesn't mind. He begins wandering around the shop, his eyes catching on all the different kinds of food in the glass cases. "Are you mad?" She suddenly blurts out, biting down on her lip. The Doctor laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah. I knew you'd get antsy and want to get out sometime. I've got to say, though, thought you'd last a bit longer."

Rose can't help but smile as he brushes his hair out of his eyes and walks back towards her, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Neither of them seem to remember that there is another woman in the shop. They are both focused solely on each other. "I've never been able to properly sit still for too long. Part of the reason I didn't go to university. I wanted to save money up for traveling, actually..."

The Doctor nods and leans against the counter, studying her. Neither of them say anything. Rose lets her gaze wander around the shop. The Doctor drops his gaze to his shoes. Rose has never really taken the time to look around the store; she's never had time. But it really is quite a cute little place. She's surprised it doesn't get more customers. To the right, when you enter, there are several chairs to sit at, and each of the tables has a small vase of flowers on them. The room seems to have an almost pink glow to it, too. It smells deliciously of coffee and blueberry bagels. It really would be the perfect place for a date. Finally, the woman reappears at the counter, holding two medium sized cups. "Oh," Rose says in surprise, frowning and beginning to look through her wallet. "I only ordered one..."

The woman shakes her head and rolls her eyes, looking annoyed and impatient. "The second one is for him," she explains, speaking as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The woman glances at the Doctor, batting her eyelashes at him and biting down on her lip. He doesn't even look at her; his eyes are trained on Rose, watching her movements. Rose fights the urge to snap at the woman, and instead begins to take out a tenner, but the Doctor stops her. He places his own money on the counter and slides it towards the woman. Rose shoots him a questioning glance and he shrugs.

"I owe you," he reminds her, and Rose smiles a little.

"Here I was, thinking you'd forgotten."

He picks up the cups and hands her one, and they both walk to the door, exiting and beginning down the pavement, side by side. "Nah, my brain's too big. I remember everything. It's so crammed full of information, but I make room for every detail."

"Don't get cocky," she snorts, but he only grins and takes a sip of his coffee. As he does so, Rose notices delicate black writing on the side of his cup and she giggles, taking a sip of her own drink and bumping her shoulder lightly against his. The Doctor frowns and glances at her, arching an eyebrow.

"What?"

Rose purses her lips and nodes towards his cup. "She gave you her number," she says, smirking. Looking shocked, the Doctor turns his cup around and glances at it. He frowns again.

"What happens if I don't call it?" He asks, sounding genuinely uncertain and confused. Rose stares at him in surprise. Surely this isn't the first time this has happened to him? Not when he looks like _that_... not with his perfect hair and sideburns, his amazing eyes and his adorable grin... she shakes the thoughts off, once again having to remind herself that she couldn't be thinking about him like that.

"Uhm... I don't know. She'll either go crazy stalker mode on you or she'll give up. Or she'll just develop a very large crush on you and cry."

"Oh. Should I take my chances?" He asks, looking at Rose with wide, worried eyes. Rose smiles.

"I don't know. Did you really not like her? She wasn't particularly unattractive. Maybe you two could get along."

The Doctor shrugs, sipping his coffee again. "I'm not really the romantic type," he mumbles, and they descend into silence. The Doctor kicks lightly at the snow on the sidewalk. It must have snowed again overnight; Rose hadn't even noticed on her way to the shop, but it certainly makes sense. That must have been how the Doctor had known where to find her. They begin to walk down the pathway to the park, but Rose stops by the first bench. The Doctor stops once he notices she's no longer following him.

"What's wrong?" He asks, turning his body to face her. Rose shuffles her feet, shrugging uncertainly.

"I don't know... I just don't really want to go back yet..."

The Doctor studies her for a few moments, and Rose begins to feel a bit warm under his gaze. She shoves the feelings away and swallows, avoiding meeting his eyes. He lets out a puff of breath and checks the watch in his wrist, looking thoughtful. "Wellll..." he draws the word out, directing his gaze to the sky for a moment before letting it fall on her. He smiles softly at her. "We've got a few hours until the one policeman who is determined to get me gets on duty - yes, I've learned his schedule - so... if you want to go to go catch a bite to eat and see a movie or something..."

Upon his words, Rose feels her heart begin to speed up and she tries desperately to slow it down. He's not asking her out on a _date_ \- he's simply letting her do what she wants. He doesn't want her being cooped up anymore than she does. In fact, only minutes before, he had told her that he wasn't the romantic type. _This wasn't an invitation to go on a date._ Taking a slow, deep breath, she grins at him and nods, trying to pretend like her heart isn't pounding so hard against her ribs that it almost feels like it hurts. "That sounds fantastic," she says cheerily, and he smiles brightly, looking happy. He sticks his hand out, wriggling his fingers. Giggling a bit, Rose takes his hand, and he threads their fingers together. Then, he takes off in a sprint, and Rose can do nothing else but follow, her hand still trapped in his.


	6. Chapter 6

They stop at a chippy on the way back from the movies. They had chosen to see _Thor: The Dark World_. The Doctor had been heavily amused and impressed throughout the entire movie, while Rose had become bored halfway through it. However, the grins the Doctor continued to shoot her throughout the film made up for it.

By the time they get to the chippy, it's nearly eight in the morning. They weren't meant to be back home until 8:30, but neither of them were particularly keen on returning so quickly. The Doctor orders their meal and Rose picks out a small, circular table near the windows. The chair is rather tall, and she nearly slips while getting up onto it. The Doctor appears a few minutes later holding two baskets. He smiles, looking genuinely happy, and pushes one in front of Rose. He pulls himself easily onto his chair, then reaches for the ketchup, squirting more than is needed into his basket. Rose snorts and shakes her head. The Doctor only chuckles as he dips a chip into the ketchup, then pops it into his mouth, devouring it quickly.

Rose chews hers much more slowly, watching as the streets of London finally begin to flood with people. She's always loved doing this. She doesn't know why, but ever since she was little, watching people walk past has always calmed her down. She loves seeing all the couples, all the different kinds of people. However, her favorite part is trying to guess _who_ these people are. Lawyers, doctors, making up a history for them in the back of her mind... it keeps her entertained.

Her eyes follow a younger man in particular. He looks to be about sixteen. His hair is black and greasy and pushed back, and his green eyes are tired. _Broken_ _hearted_ , Rose thinks, watching as he walks past, slouching with his hands stuffed into his pockets. His girlfriend has just broken up with him. He's devastated, and he believes that his love life is over and done with. Silly, young love.

"Drug addict," the Doctor says suddenly, and Rose jerks her head to stare at him, frowning. His eyes are trained on the same boy, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"That boy. He's a drug addict. Bloodshot eyes, he looks tired. He should be in school right now, but he's not. Plus, I've watched him get arrested for it."

Rose can feel anger bubbling in her stomach. "You're ruining it," she growls, before she can stop herself. The Doctor turns his head to look at her, blinking in confusion.

"Ruining what?"

She stops, blushes, and drops her gaze to her basket, closing her eyes. Oh, how she wishes she wouldn't have said that. The Doctor would surely laugh at her if he knew that she created make believe stories for these random people. "Nothing," she grumbles, and by the way he snorts, she knows he's not going to let it go so quickly.

"No, come on, tell me. I'm just curious, after all. Not trying to humiliate you. What was I ruining?"

Rose shakes her head, pressing her lips into a line. He nudges her foot under the table and she glances up at him. His eyebrow is arched, his head tilted. Finally, Rose sighs. "Sometimes I... make up stories, I guess. Make up a fake history. Just for the people outside, because it's relaxing. And... you ruined what I had in my head..."

He smiles, and for a moment, Rose thinks he's going to laugh. However, he doesn't. Instead, he leans forward a little, leaning his weight onto his arms. He actually looks curious, and for some reason, that makes Rose want to smile. "What was your story for him?"

Rose blushes again. "Just young love," she mumbles, and a soft smile spreads across the Doctor's lips.

"I like that," he says, leaning back against his chair. "I like that a lot. It's much better than a drug addict, eh?"

Rose nods, keeping her mouth shut. She directs her attention to her chips, trying to ignore the way the Doctor is staring at her. "What is your story?" He suddenly asks, his voice soft and curious. Rose frowns, looking up at him.

"Huh?"

"Your story. What is it?"

Rose shakes her head. "That's a bit personal, isn't it?"

He bites his lip, studying her for a few moments. He toys with a chip, scratching at the back of his neck. Suddenly, making Rose jumps, he snaps his fingers, and then he grins. "Okay, then. Tell me today's story!"

"You were with me the whole time today," Rose reminds him, giggling softly. He smiles, and Rose hears her own breath catch at the soft, happy look in his eyes. Hopefully, he doesn't. He almost looks affectionate. Of course, that can't be right, because the Doctor doesn't... he isn't... Rose pushes the thoughts into the back of her mind, knowing that she'll probably end up thinking about it later.

"Not the whole time," he points out, his jaw rested in his hand. Rose stares at him, smiling just a little.

"All right. My story? I woke up, and -"

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where did you wake up? It's a story, Rose Tyler, you've got to make it interesting. It has to be detailed." He chews on his lip, grinning brightly. Rose flashes him a tongue-in-teeth grin, shaking her head.

"Okay, then. I woke up on the couch. It was really early - the room was only just beginning to light up. So, I went down the hallway. I saw your room..." the Doctor's eyes flicker, but his smile doesn't drop. "I nearly went inside," she admits. "Or, I wanted to. But, I didn't. Clearly you wanted to keep your room to yourself. Instead, I changed my top. When I went back out, you were still asleep. I figured taking a walk wouldn't hurt, that I could get back before you woke up." Rose grins, rolling her eyes gently. "Guess I was wrong about that, eh?"

"Anyway, I walked down the street. There was no one outside. It was a little creepy, since London's streets are almost always full, but I didn't worry too much. I got to the coffee shop and... well, you know the rest."

The Doctor smiles happily, sitting back in his seat. "You're a good story teller," he chuckles, and Rose shakes her head, taking a bite of a chip. Once she swallows, she speaks again.

"Your turn."

"What?" He smile finally drops, and he looks a bit worried.

"Tell me your story. Today's story."

He stares at her for a few moments, looking as if he's having a battle inside of his head. Finally, he shrugs, clearing his throat. "I woke up, and you weren't there-"

"Where did you wake up?" Rose teases, her tongue poking out between her teeth. The Doctor chuckles (although, it's more like a giggle) and did his eyes just dart to her mouth, or was that only her imagination? Her imagination, she decides, and then shakes the thought off.

"The couch. I woke up on the couch. You weren't there, so I was worried. I got up, and I searched the house. I even looked in my room. In fact, that was the first place I looked. I figured you might have wanted to find out why I didn't want you in there. Of course, you weren't there, so I... I panicked. I thought maybe the police had gotten you or something. I ran outside. I saw your footsteps, so I began following them. I was more than relieved to find you at the coffee shop." His words all blend together. He speaks so fast, it's difficult for Rose to understand what he's saying. When he's finished, he stares at Rose with wide eyes. He almost looks scared.

Rose grins, biting on her lip. The Doctor smiles and looks down, unlocking their gaze. "We should do this every day," he suggests suddenly, and Rose cocks her head.

"Share our days?"

"Yeah... share our _stories_. So we don't get bored of each other. Not that I would, but you might get bored of me."

"Of a thief?" Rose rolls her eyes, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I doubt it."

The Doctor raises his eyes to look at her again and he grins. His voice is quiet when he speaks next, but he sounds happy, "okay, then, Rose Tyler. It's settled. Every night, back home, we'll share our stories. Ever single day, for the rest of our days that we're together."

"Okay," she agrees, and they both grin. They're quiet for the next few minutes, just grinning at each other like idiots, and then suddenly, the bell of the shop jingles as someone enters. The Doctor glances behind him, and then he freezes, whirling around to face her again. His brows is furrowed, his teeth gritted. Rose blinks, sitting up straighter in surprise.

"What?" She whispers, ducking her head and leaning towards the Doctor.

"That's the copper," he hisses under his breath. He begins digging around in his pocket, searching for money. He throws some on the table, and they both slip onto the floor, abandoning their food. They freeze as the copper turns his head at the movement, and his eyes lock with Rose's. The copper's eyebrows shoot up in shock at the sight of her, and his eyes flicker to the Doctor, who ducks his head, hiding his face from the man with his hand.

"Hey!" The copper yells loudly, attracting the attention of everyone in the building. Rose and the Doctor both break for the door, and the man darts after them. They stumble into the street, and the Doctor's hand grips Rose's tightly, their fingers lacing together. Her heart is thumping wildly in her chest, but it's not from fear. Instead, it's from how much she suddenly trusts the Doctor. It's from how right it feels to have their fingers laced together. Her eyes drift to their joined hands, and she lets out a puff of air, squeezing his hand. He squeezes back, and then glances back at her, grinning. She returns the smile, and then looks behind her.

The man appears to have run into someone. He has fallen to the ground, and is trying desperately to scramble back to his feet, without much luck. Rose can't help the laugh that escapes her lips, and the Doctor peers behind him. He lets out a _hah!_ and then pulls Rose closer to him so they're running side by side. Neither of them let go of each other's hands. Neither of them want to.

* * *

They run the entire way home, even though they don't necessarily need to. Unlike the first time, Rose isn't breathing nearly as hard after running for so long. They burst through the door at around nine, dissolving into fits of laughter. The Doctor falls against the wall, choking as he fights for breath. Rose buries her face into her hands, giggling uncontrollably. The Doctor shoves the door closed with his foot. It takes them a few minutes until they can properly breathe.

"Oh my God," Rose finally says, and the Doctor lets out a long breath, grinning and nodding in agreement. "How often does that happen to ya?" She asks, brushing both hands through her hair. The Doctor stands up straighter, ruffling the hair on the back of his head.

"Nearly every day," he admits, clearly amused. Rose bites down on her lip to hide her smile and shakes her head, letting out a sigh. They walk through the entry way and into the living room, where they collapse on the couch. This time, they don't bother leaving a seat between them, and neither of them seem uncomfortable about it.

"You work tomorrow?" She asks quietly, gazing up at him, sinking down into the couch cushion, and folding her arms over her stomach. The Doctor nods, tilting his head back and sighing.

"I should've been working today, but now the copper is all up and about, keeping an eye out for me. It would be better if I didn't." One of his eyes cracks open and he arches an eyebrow. "You're stuck with me."

Rose snorts and shakes her head. "No. You're stuck with me."

"We're stuck with each other."

Rose nods, and he laughs a little. "Guess we'll have to find something to do..." Rose sighs.

"What do you suggest?"

They glance at each other, brows furrowed. Rose shrugs, sighing and slipping down in her seat. The Doctor looks away, his eyes roaming the room. Rose picks at her nails. Neither of them say anything for several minutes, and then suddenly, the Doctor jumps to his feet and leaves the room, heading down the hallway. Rose stays put, confused. Was he upset? Or was he getting something?

She hears a collection of noises, including a couple of curses, crashes, and thumps, and then the Doctor walks back into the room, his hair sticking up like a hedgehog. She giggles and sits up, her eyes lowering to the item he is holding in his hands. It's a small, square box, and on the top lid of the box, she can see a strange design. He walks towards her and then sets the box on the couch. Rose turns her head to examine it, and she smiles.

It's a puzzle, using a picture of a snow-capped mountain. As a kid, Rose had loved puzzles. She had used to do them all the time in her spare time. However, somewhere along the years, Rose had become bored of the game. She hasn't done a puzzle since she was six.

The Doctor moves to the back of the room, to a white door that Rose had never even realized was there, and he pulls the door open. Several minutes later, he's pulled out a small coffee table, and he sets it between the couch and the telly. "How did that fit in there?" Rose asks curiously, nodding towards the door at the back.

The Doctor flashes her an amused look and then shrugs. "It's bigger than it looks."

"Bigger on the inside?" Rose jokes, and the Doctor giggles.

"Something like that."

* * *

The puzzle is more difficult than Rose thought it would be. It ends up taking a total of five hours to complete, despite that it's only 600 pieces (when Rose was little, she could complete a 300 piece puzzle in half an hour). They take a few breaks inbetween, just to watch a little television and to have a few snacks. Finally, they are down to the last ten pieces.

"Hey, Doctor?" Rose says suddenly, and he glances up at her from the puzzle, raising one eyebrow.

"Yeah?" He mumbles, a piece trapped between his lips. Rose purses her lips, sticking a piece into place. He does the same with another piece.

"I was just wondering..." she pauses, taking a deep breath. She isn't quite sure how she should ask this question. "You just... you said you have to work tomorrow and... well, I don't really like being alone..."

His movements slow until he eventually stops moving altogether. He doesn't speak however, and he doesn't look up at her either. He's waiting for her to continue, she realizes, and she swallows, brushing her hair back. "I was wondering... would it be possible if I could come with you? To your work... thing, I mean."

Still, the Doctor doesn't speak. However, he takes the piece in his lips and presses into place, and then he sighs, sitting back on his heels. He looks up at her, straight into her eyes, and she feels her heart skip at the intensity in his gaze. "No," he says, almost expressionlessly, and Rose's heart sinks.

"Why?" She asks, frowning. The Doctor stands up and brushes off his jeans. Rose stands up as well. She reaches for his wrist, like the day before, just to make sure he isn't going to walk away. This time, she doesn't pull away from him when he freezes. Rose moves around the coffee table, keeping her hand on his wrist. His eyes drop down to their hands, and he slides his down just a little, so that their hands are resting in each other. Slowly, he turns her hand over, and she watches, her heart pounding as he rests her hand against his cheek. Using his own hand to trap hers in place, he reaches up with his other and does the same with her cheek, his thumb brushing over her cheek bone. Rose swallows, her mouth dry.

"You want to know why?" He asks, speaking so quietly that she almost can't hear. Rose nods, and his eyes lift to hers, searching them. They stay in the position for a while, the Doctor completely silent, and then finally, he speaks. "If you ever got hurt, Rose Tyler..." he drops his hand from her cheek, and lets hers drop from his, too, "I would never forgive myself." He takes a step away from her, shoving his hands into his pockets and letting out a quiet laugh. "Which, I suppose, is stupid. I've seen so many people get hurt around me... I've been the cause of so many people getting hurt... and I feel terrible, 'course I do, but with you, if you were to get hurt, I'd..." he drops his gaze, swallowing. Rose never gets to hear what he plans on saying, because he swirls around on his heels and scrambles from the room. Rose stays where she is, staring blankly at the wall. She flinches when she hears the Doctor's door slam shut, and for a short moment, Rose Tyler just wants to break and cry.


	7. Chapter 7

Rose doesn't see him for the rest of the day. He keeps himself locked up in his room, not once leaving, not even to use the bathroom. He doesn't come out to get food, either, and that makes Rose a little worried. At one point, she tries knocking on his door, but he doesn't reply. She doesn't try again. She wastes her time by finishing the puzzle and playing a few card games by herself. She finally gets around to calling Mickey, and he's really upset that she hadn't called him yet. Eventually, she manages to convince him that she's fine, and that the man looking after her is a safe person to be around. He questions her about what is going on the first place, but, not wanting to lie, Rose simply says 'it's complicated' and Mickey snorts. After that, they talk for nearly an hour, mostly about gossip. Awkwardly enough, she finds herself bored when talking to Mickey, unlike when she's talking to the Doctor.

Not that Mickey is a boring person, they just don't share the same interests... at all. Neither do the Doctor and Rose, but for some reason, they seem to get along rather well, and there doesn't ever seem to be a dull moment with him. After that hour, Rose comes up with an excuse to hang up, and Mickey says 'I love you' nearly twelve times before Rose can hang up. It's only after she's hung up that she realizes she hadn't said it back.

She feels guilty about that as she goes to make dinner, but she tries not to dwell on the thought. Instead, she focuses on the pot of macaroni in front of her. Her eyes flicker to the clock hung on the wall. It's only five. Macaroni should only take about half an hour, so she'll be eating at five thirty. Surely the Doctor would be hungry by then? When the dinner is cooked, she fills two bowls. Leaving one on the kitchen table, she wanders down the hallway with the other, stopping in front of the Doctor's door. She tries to listen for noises inside, but it's completely silent.

Shifting nervously from foot to foot, Rose gently taps out a rhythm on the door with her fist. No one answers, so she knocks louder, then louder still, and finally, the door swings open, revealing a sleepy, annoyed looking Doctor. He studies her for a few moments, his eyes flickering to the macaroni and then back to her face. "What?" He mumbles after a while, letting out a yawn.

"Food," Rose says, holding it out towards him. Frowning, the Doctor takes the food in his hands, cocking his head. "You need to eat," she snorts, rolling her eyes. "If you're going to lock yourself in your room all day like a child, at least eat." His eyes flicker with what looks like surprise and confusion mixed together at her words, but he doesn't argue. He simply nods, mutters his thanks, and then the door is shut in Rose's face. Sighing, she drags herself back to her own dish on the table and eats alone.

She finishes around six, and by then, she feels exhausted. She drags herself to her room without even looking at the Doctor's door. Once inside, she kicks off her shoes and crawls underneath her covers, pulling them up to her chin. Even as tired as she is, she can't seem to fall asleep. She turns to lie onto her back and rakes her fingers through her hair, staring sleepily up at the ceiling. The silence of the house sends shivers down her spine and she groans, flopping over and pulling the pillow over the back of her head. Several hours later, she's still not asleep. She sits up and pulls her phone from her pocket. It's only eight, but Rose feels as though it should be around eleven.

She bites down onto her lip and looks around the room, peering through the darkness. She doesn't know what to do. Maybe the Doctor kept some sleep medicine in the bathroom. Peeling the covers from her body, Rose steps down lightly and tiptoes across the floor. She nudges the door open with her foot and steps into the hallway. Instantly, she's blasted with cold air. Rose gasps and moves her arms to hug herself. Had the heating been turned off? Sighing, she makes her way to the bathroom and flicks the light on, heading for the cabinet. She shuffles through the contents for a while, turning over bottles of pills and syrups, but there's nothing inside that would help her to fall asleep.

Huffing, she leans over the counter, burying her face into her hands. When would this be over? When could she just go home and be with her mum and her boyfriend? She knows that deep down, she doesn't fully want it to be over. She doesn't want to go back to her old life, repeating the same thing every single day. But she misses her family, she misses Mickey. Shaking her head, Rose turns on the warm tap, cupping her hands under the falling water. Once filled to the top, she bends down and splashes her face, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hands up her face. She pushes her hair out of her face as well, glancing up to look in the mirror.

For a second, she nearly doesn't recognize herself in the reflection. Her skin is much paler, besides her cheeks which are tinted pink. However, her eyes seem much more alive. The girl in the reflection is happier, despite her previous thoughts. She stares at the mirror for a while, picking out the differences. Finally, she lets out a sigh and leaves the room, turning off the light. She moves to go back to her room, but stops in front of the Doctor's room, pursing her lips. If she went back to bed, she wouldn't fall asleep until midnight. She looks the door up and down, crossing her arms over her chest, contemplating whether or not to knock. Would he be upset with her if she woke him up?

Taking a sharp breath, she strides towards the door and pauses, her hand poised to knock. If he was asleep, he wouldn't know if she just cracked the door open, just a bit. Wrinkling her nose, Rose slowly turns the handle, tensing as it makes a sharp noise. She waits, expecting to hear the Doctor telling her to go away, but the room is completely silent. Is he even in there? Gently, she pushes the door open and peers inside.

The room is flooded with an orange glow from a bedside table lamp. She steps lightly inside, digging her bare toes into the soft, gray colored carpet. The walls are painted a bright white. Her eyes drift to the Doctor, and her heart stirs, a smile tugging at her lips. He's lying sideways, stomach up on his bed. His bed is a four poster with a red, fancy canopy that is pushed up and looks as if it's rarely ever used. He's dressed in a brown pinstriped set of pajamas. His head hangs back over the side of his bed and his black rimmed glasses are askew on his face. In one hand, which is lying on the bed, he holds a book. She can't quite see what it is from here. His other hand is lying on his chest. Suddenly, he frowns and turns his head towards the wall and Rose tenses up, holding her breath. He stirs for a few more moments before relaxing.

Rose bites down on her lip to avoid grinning as she steps back out of the room, closing the door behind her. Unwilling to wake him up, she retreats back to her room.

* * *

A hand grips her arm tightly, and Rose is shaken awake. She gasps and her eyes flicker open, meeting the Doctor's. The room is completely dark. It can't be any later than five in the morning. Groaning, she pushes the Doctor away lightly and he takes a step back, mumbling 'sorry' underneath his breath. She pushes herself up into a sitting position, rubbing at her eyes.

"What?" She mumbles, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Do you still want to come?" The Doctor asks, spilling out his words almost too quickly for Rose to understand. She frowns, watching the Doctor as he shifts uncomfortably.

"Come where?" Rose questions warily, raising an eyebrow.

"With me. To 'work'."

"I thought you didn't want me to come..." Rose grumbles, diverting her gaze to her lap, where she twiddles her thumbs. The Doctor swallows hard and then sighs.

"I guess I don't really want to be alone, either."

Rose contemplates that for a bit, biting the inside of her cheek. "Okay," she says after a minute or two, and the Doctor steps farther away as Rose hops down from the bed. She doesn't really need to worry about changing her clothing, as she highly doubts that the Doctor will be letting her do anything dangerous. Or anything at all, for that matter. Black has never really been her color, anyway, so that's probably a good thing. The Doctor beckons her towards the door, exiting the room, and Rose snatches up her shoes on the way out, which she pulls on in the hallway. The hallway is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a lamp in the kitchen.

"What time is it?" She whispers, looking around for a clock and coming up fruitless. The Doctor lifts his wrist and checks his watch.

"Five sixteen," he replies, and Rose nods, yawning. The Doctor shoots her an amused glance as he walks into the living room. He's dressed in the same outfit that he wore the day they first met, Rose realizes. He picks up his balaclava off of the couch cushion and pockets it, then leans his head forward, ruffling his hair. He smoothes it back lazily so that his bangs are pushed out of his face. His hair looks a bit greasy, so Rose makes a mental note to tell him to wash it later. She tucks her hands under her arms and rocks back on her heels, pursing her lips. Her messy hair has fallen in front of her face again, but she's too lazy to move it back again.

The Doctor offers her an awkward smile and presses his lips together. He sighs soon after, then starts towards her. "Are you sure you want to come?" He asks, stopping a few feet in front of her.

"Yes," Rose replies immediately, meeting his eyes.

"It could be dangerous?"

Rose laughs, "I don't care." She knows he's trying to convince her to stay back. He's still worried about her getting hurt, which is ridiculous, because Rose can almost run as fast as he can. Unless he pushes her, she doubts she's going to get seriously hurt. Finally, he lets out a defeated groan and Rose giggles. Shaking his head with an amused grin, the Doctor nods towards the door.

"Come on then, Rose Tyler. Off we go."

He offers her his hand, and she gladly takes it, following him as he leads her out of the house and down the pavement. Once they're outside and a ways away from the house, he drops her hand.

The street they're walking down in bustling with a lot of tired looking people. The only light source is that from the moon and the orange glows of store lights. His eyes follow the movements of the people around them, watching their steps. Rose watches him curiously. He's quite a ways ahead of her, but every once in a while, he shoots a glance back to make sure she's still around. Finally, he stops and waits for her to catch up. "Okay," he whispers under his breath, dipping his head to her ear. "See that man?" She follows his gaze and nods. There's a man standing in the middle of the pavement, texting on his phone. He looks like a mess. His shirt is untucked, his pants a bit loose. From his pocket, his wallet sticks out clearly.

"Yeah?" She replies, glancing up at the Doctor. His turns his face towards her and she tries to avoid taking a sharp breath at the closeness. Their faces are only inches apart, and she briefly wonders what it would be like to jam her lips against his soft, pink ones, but she abandons the thoughts quickly. Now isn't the time to be thinking about that.

"He's distracted," the Doctor says, looking back towards the man. He has started walking forward again, but his eyes are still entirely focused on his mobile. "Watch."

The Doctor slips from Rose's side and begins walking down the sidewalk, his hands by his sides. Rose can't help but smile as the Doctor "accidentally" bumps into the man, who begins cursing as his phone slips from his hands and crashes to the sidewalk. The Doctor yelps and begins apologizing over and over, and she watches as his hand slips to the man's pocket and easily pulls out his wallet, flipping it around in his hand and pushing it into his own pocket. The man glares at the Doctor, snatches up his phone and stalks off, face red with anger. He has no idea that his wallet is missing.

Rose presses her hand to her mouth to keep from giggling as the man walks by her, shooting her a glance. The Doctor joins her side again quickly, grinning from ear to ear and waving the brown leather wallet in her face. "That was pretty cool," Rose admits, craning her neck to see as the Doctor opens the wallet up. He lifts several notes from the wallet. Altogether, it adds up to about £300. Rose's jaw drops and the Doctor smirks.

"You knew then?" Rose asks in confusion as the Doctor puts the money back into the wallet and the slips the wallet into his pocket. "You knew he would be carrying a lot?" The Doctor nods.

"Sort of, yeah. I guessed, anyway."

"How?" She asks curiously.

"His shirt and pants were loose and crinkled and his hair was a mess. He was breathing hard. I figured he'd either just gotten in a fist fight with someone or he'd had a little fun over night, for which he'd need a fair amount of money, the amount differing based on the company he used."

Rose blinks at him, shocked. "You mean prostitutes?"

The Doctor nods. "He was married though, I saw his ring," Rose argues, and the Doctor shrugs helplessly.

"People are horrible. They cheat and lie, it happens all the time." Rose can't help but feel sad for the wife or husband of the man, but she doesn't voice the thought out loud. She shakes her head and sighs, looking around the streets.

"So, what, is this all you do all day, then? Pickpocket people?"

"Oh, no," he laughs, and they begin walking down the dark street again, slipping past people. "It's much more complicated than that."

"And because I'm here, you're taking it easy?" She guesses, and the Doctor smirks.

"How'd you know?"

Rose sighs and the Doctor casts her a sad look. He shoves his hands into his pockets, shrugging. "It's for your own good," he tries to explain, and Rose snorts. "I just don't want you getting hurt..."

"Because you'd never forgive yourself," Rose finishes for him, and the Doctor nods, staring at her hopefully. She does understand, really, she just doesn't want to. She doesn't want the Doctor being worried, either. She isn't _weak_. Rose shakes it off. This wasn't a time for being angry or frustrated with the Doctor. "Okay then," she says, tilting her head to look up at him. "What do you do, then? Besides pickpocketing. It's got to be much worse if that copper is so desperate to catch you."

The Doctor grins, tossing his head back. He almost looks a little proud. "I usually break into places," he admits, speaking lowly as to avoid the people around from hearing. "For instance... Buckingham Palace."

"No!" Rose gasps in disbelief, and the Doctor grins and shrugs again. "Oh my gosh," she laughs, throwing her head back. "Was it you who stole that one jewelry piece from the palace, then?" The Doctor nods. "That was _all_ over the news, my mum was laughing so hard, she couldn't believe someone had managed to get past the guards so easily. She complimented you! And trust me, getting a compliment out of her when you're not what society considers a good person, it's really hard."

The Doctor laughs, delighted. They grin at each other, and Rose shakes her head. "You're mad," she snorts, and the Doctor smirks, beginning to stride farther ahead of her.

"Yup," he says, and he pops the 'p'.


	8. Chapter 8

Rose follows him around London for hours, which is both horrid and wonderful at the same time. Her legs are aching and her head is pounding, but the Doctor stays by her side whenever he's not pickpocketing someone. He rambles on at 100 miles per hour for almost all of the time. He talks about famous thieves, aliens, what it must be like for normal people, television shows, and most of all, he talks about bananas - he seems to have a fondness for them. He doesn't explain why. They get coffee again when they begin to get cold, but even having the object in his hands, the Doctor still manages to pick unsuspecting pockets without any trouble. Rose asks at one point to try, but he shakes his head and says, "maybe next time".

At the moment, they're strolling down a street, as they've been doing all day, and the sun is finally beginning to set. Their hands are clasped, and while the air around them is cold, Rose still feels warm, her arm pressed against the Doctor as they squeeze through crowds. The Doctor's eyes dart all over the place constantly, even as he's talking.

"Circuses," he says suddenly, and Rose frowns, mumbling 'what?' sleepily under her breath. The Doctor doesn't seem to notice the tired tone, and he keeps talking. "Circuses! Lovely! I love a good circus. Did I ever tell you that the first circus was held in-"

Rose's head had dropped against the Doctor's arm, and out of habit, she had nuzzled him ever so slightly. The small action had been enough to make his breath hitch and his jaw snap shut. Embarrassed, she begins to lift her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face so he won't see the blush on her cheeks. But, before she can, his hand lets go of hers, and his arm winds around her waist pulling her up against him. She blushes even harder, keeping her head pointed at the ground.

"Maybe we should go home," he suggests softly, and Rose shakes her head.

"M' all right. M' fine," she argues, although, she really isn't. She feels as though if she lets her eyelids close, she'll fall asleep instantly. She has to fight to keep them open, and she's dragging her aching feet.

"Sure," he snorts, and she manages a drowsy smile. Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees him shake his head as his eyes drift around the area. Suddenly, he stops, and Rose stops with him.

"What is it?" She asks, forcing her eyes open wide.

"One last stop?" He suggests, and Rose tries to figure out which victim he's talking about. However, suddenly, his arm still around her waist, he begins to lead her towards a laundrette. Confused, Rose follows him. She doesn't get to see the name of the laundrette as they walk inside. For whatever reason, he doesn't let her go as he strides confidently up to the front counter. She trusts him to know what's he's doing (although, she's fairly certain he makes everything up as he goes along).

"Hello!" The Doctor chirps happily to the woman up front. The pretty brunette girl lifts her head in surprise, blinking. She adjusts the black rimmed glasses perched on her small nose and smiles.

"Hello," she says, tilting her head. Her eyes flicker between the two and her smile widens. "Might I say, before you go on, sir, that you two are an adorable couple!"

Rose stares at the woman, her face falling in surprise. She glances at the Doctor, expecting him to correct her, but he doesn't. He doesn't even blink at the words, and instead is beginning to speak as if he hadn't heard the compliment. Rose is suddenly very conscious of the Doctor's arm around her and how much they must really look like a couple to other people. Not that she minds people filing them as a couple, but why did the Doctor not correct her?

"I'm, uh, here to collect my weekly bananas," the Doctor said, his eyes roaming the back counters. The woman's smile slowly falls and she stares blankly at him.

"Err... I'm sorry, sir, but... what?"

"My weekly bananas! Come 'ere every week for 'em."

"I... I think you may have the wrong store, sir..."

The Doctor frowns and shakes his head. Rose knows he's putting on an act. A very believable act, but an act all the same. "It's here, I'm positive." His eyes drift to Rose and he puts on a fake, loving smile. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

Rose has to bite her tongue to restrain from giggling. Well then, that was why he hadn't corrected the 'couple' thing. _This_ was his plan. "Yeah, 'course it is! We do love our juicy, ripe bananas, and they certainly are best from here," she replies, as serious as she can be, and a small sound between a giggle and a snort erupts from the Doctor's throat. He covers it up with a cough. The woman is beginning to look worried.

"Ma'am, sir, I can assure you -"

"Your boss!" The Doctor interrupts, flashing the woman a dazzling smile that would have caused Rose to turn into a puddle. She glances at the woman, and the woman seems to be doing just that - her face has gone bright red, her mouth ajar, and she can see the attraction the woman feels towards the Doctor glowing in her eyes. Rose can barely restrain from snorting. So he _does_ know the effect he has on women! Cheeky bugger!

"W-what about my boss?" She splutters out, dropping her gaze to the desk.

"Good man, he is! 'M sure he'll know exactly what I'm talking about. Go check with him."

The woman's gaze hardens and she arches an eyebrow, lifting her eyes back up to his face. "My boss is a woman."

The Doctor stares at her for a few seconds, looking a bit worried, until finally, he smiles. "Ah, yes, see, I'm afraid my heads gone a bit wonky, ever since I got hit by that lorry." He shakes his head sadly, and Rose bites her tongue again. "Don't remember small details like that, not anymore. _She_ , my dearest apologies."

The woman still looks suspicious, but she swirls around on her heels and leaves the room through the back. Once the door has swung shut, the Doctor leaps over the counter. Rose takes a step back, watching in amusement as he begins trying to get the cash register open. She glances around, but most people seem to have left, besides an older man who is glued to the television. Rose shakes her head and turns her attention back to the Doctor, leaning onto the desk and watching him.

It's when someone calls out 'Rose?!' in a strangled voice a few minutes after that the Doctor and Rose freeze. Rose swirls around immediately, her eyes fixed on the source of the voice. Her stomach drops and the color drains from her face.

"Mum?" She chokes out, eyes wide. Her mum stands in the doorway of the laundrette, her face twisted into a look of confusion and shock. She's carrying a blue laundry basket. She drops it and hurries towards Rose, throwing her arms around her. Rose hugs her mother back tightly, her body stiff.

"Ya didn't call me!" Jackie says as she pulls back, keeping her hands clasped on Rose's shoulders. Rose pales even more as she realizes that what her mother says is true. She had told her she would call, and she hadn't.

"I... forgot," she admits, her voice quiet. Tears are already brimming in her eyes from the guilt, and her mother sweeps her into another hug. Rose buries her face into her mother's neck, cursing herself furiously under her breath. Her mother had looked tired when she walked in, bags underneath her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers, and they break apart again. Her mother opens her mouth to reply, but stops short as her eyes drift behind Rose. Rose winces and swirls around to face the Doctor. His lips are pursed and he looks ridiculously awkward. Jackie's jaw tightens and she takes a few angry steps forward.

"Who are you?" Jackie spits out, and the Doctor's eyes widen.

"I... I'm Rose's..." he trails off, biting down on his lip. His eyes flicker to Rose. He looks helpless.

"Friend," Rose fills in for him, flashing him an odd look. His eyes widen even further, if that's possible, and he stares at her, seemingly shocked at her words. Rose feels her heart sink, and she drops her gaze to the floor. Is that not what he thought of her? Was she simply a bother to him?

Jackie snorts. "I'm not sure I approve of that, not after what the police said to me!"

Rose and the Doctor gasp, and Rose stares at her mother in shock. "The police came to ya?"

"Rantin' on 'bout how you'd been kidnapped, yeah! Kept tellin' 'em that you hadn't, but they didn't believe me. Said you were with a criminal. So who are ya?" Her gaze travels to the Doctor and he stares at Jackie, his jaw dropped. He closes it and swallows, dropping his eyes to the desk. Rose doesn't have much to say about it, either.

"I'm the Doctor," he finally says, and Jackie rolls her eyes, resting her hands on her hips and leaning her weight onto her side.

"The Doctor? That's not even a proper name! I deserve to know who my daughter is with!" She drops her voice, her eyes softening. Rose watches the scene, holding her breath. "I deserve to know that my daughter is safe."

The Doctor purses his lips and slowly, he climbs back over the counter. Rose can see a few notes sticking out of pocket, but Jackie doesn't, apparently. "It's just the Doctor-" he tries again, but Jackie interrupts him.

"No, stop it, tell me your _real_ name. Who are ya?"

The Doctor stares at her, his jaw clenched. "John Smith," he lies quickly, and Jackie looks as if she's about to throw herself at the Doctor. Her eyes harden and she swallows, her body tensing. The Doctor looks a bit worried for a few seconds and he takes a step back, pressing himself up against the counter.

"Mum," Rose says after a few moments of silence and hard stares between the two. She steps between them, meeting her mother's gaze. "You can trust him, honestly."

"Right, because he just took money out of the register, that's why I can trust him?"

Rose winces and the Doctor clears his throat awkwardly. She glances back at the Doctor who lowers his gaze, the color drained from his face. "Mum... can't I explain later?" She asks under her breath, turning back to face her mother, who immediately scowls.

"What, so you're leaving me again already?" She asks harshly, and Rose sighs.

"I have to..." she says softly, and her mother crosses her arms and glares at her.

"What for?" She snaps, and her eyes go back to the Doctor. "So you can get busy with _him_?"

The Doctor gasps again and Rose feels a blush rise to her cheeks, which she desperately tries to push away. "No! Mum, I told ya, it's not like that, I... I can't go home," she mumbles, pushing her hair out of her face. Her mother's eyes soften and she slumps a little, causing Rose to feel even more guilty.

"Why not? I don't understand!" She gestures to the Doctor, who flinches away. Rose has to restrain a giggle at his reaction. "You go off with 'im, no explanation why, for all I know my daughter's being _forced_ to-"

"Jackie," the Doctor says suddenly, and she shuts right up, watching the Doctor cautiously. She's glad that her mother doesn't ask where the Doctor has come to know her name, because the only reason Rose would have been able to think of would have been the fact that he looked into her a bit. He forces a smile onto his lips. "I promise you, I'm not forcing your daughter to do anything. Honestly, I'm not. I gave her the chance to go home, and I explained why that would be dangerous. I'm not stealing her away from you, she's allowed to go home whenever she wants."

"The thing is, mum," Rose cuts in, moving to the Doctor's side, "is that the police are out for him. They saw me with him, because he ran into me." She bumps his shoulder as she says this, and he grins sheepishly. "So, they're out for me, as well. That time the police came to the house? That isn't gonna be the last time they do. They're gonna be everywhere, and you can't tell them where I am, okay?"

"And that's why she can't go home," the Doctor clarifies, and Jackie glares at him to shut him up, which he does.

"When _can_ you come home, then?" Jackie whispers, and Rose takes a deep breath, shaking her head slowly.

"I don't know," she admits, glancing to the side. "I really don't. When we figure it out, I suppose..." It's then that Rose realizes that that could be a lot longer than she previously thought.

* * *

They say goodbye to Jackie, which takes much longer than the Doctor would have wanted, and they quickly leave before the employee can come back. Rose doesn't touch the Doctor on the way home. She doesn't hold his hand, and he doesn't wrap his arm around her waist like before. She finds that she misses the feeling, but that's only when she's thinking about it. She has something else on her mind the whole way home.

When they get home, Rose is not only starving, but she feels a bit sick to her stomach, too. The Doctor cooks up some chicken nuggets he has in the freezer and they eat in silence. Eventually, Rose speaks.

"So... would you happen to have a laptop I could use? To email my mum? It'd be easier than using my mobile..."

He nods and disappears to his room, coming back a few second later with a silver MacBook Pro in his hands, which he rests in front of her. She thanks him and pops the lid open, her eyes flickering over to him. He's looking through a newspaper, not remotely interested in what she's doing. Good.

She opens Firefox and just in case, she puts G-mail in one tab. In the other, she opens Google, and then pauses, frowning, before typing in 'the Doctor', not expecting much. Her mother had made a fair point at the laundrette. What _was_ his real name? Why hadn't he told her? She could understand him not wanting a complete stranger to know his name, but she wasn't exactly a stranger anymore. She trusted him, and hopefully he trusted her. What was he hiding?

As expected, the only results were local doctors and hospitals. Biting on her lip, she types in 'London thief the doctor'. It comes up with old reports from the 1900's about a doctor operating on a thief. She's tempted for a moment to slam her hands down on the keyboard, already frustrated with the lack of results. Then, she gets an idea. She types in the Doctor's address, and then at the end, adds 'buyer info'. After scrolling through several sites, she manages to find one. However, the only supplied name is 'John Smith'. Idiot.

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes, breathing in a deep breath. She reaches forward to try something, else, but a jingle stops her. She glances up in confusion. The Doctor frowns and pulls his phone from his pocket, letting out a long sigh.

"I have to go," he says, and Rose feels her heart sink. She flicks back to the G-mail tab and closes everything else, watching as he lazily stands up and heads to the kitchen exit. "I shouldn't be very long, really. Twenty minutes, top?"

Rose nods and smiles, waving. He waves back, then starts towards the door. He stops in front of it, and glances over his shoulder. "Hey. No going into my room."

She nods again and he purses his lips and nods back before slipping out the door. Immediately, she stands up, leaving the kitchen and starting down the hallway. His bedroom. What did he keep in there? There was clearly something he was hiding from her, but what was it? She doesn't stop to think about it as she shoves the door open and marches inside, her gaze scouring the room. His bed is still a mess, but everything else is almost freakishly perfect. She's already seen the right side of the room, so her eyes dart to the left.

It's really quite simple. There's a long, light brown dresser shoved up against the wall and there's a door on the same wall, at the end. A window is on the far wall. The curtains are drawn back, but because it's night, it doesn't make a difference. She starts towards the dresser, pulling open the top drawer. There is simply clothing inside, so she closes it and drops to her knees to pull open the next drawer, which is empty besides a pen. The next is filled with stolen jewelry, and she chuckles as she pushes it closed again, moving to the next drawer. She laughs softly at the contents. It's filled with different movies and TV series. Star Trek, Star Wars, Sherlock, Scrubs, a few Shakespeare things, and several more things she's never heard of. She sorts through it a bit, but after finding nothing of interest, she pushes it closed again.

Moving onto the last and final drawer, which she finds to be locked. Curiously, she raises her head and looks around the room for the key. It's nowhere in sight. _I'll look at that later_ , she decides, and then walks to the Doctor's bed. She sits down and pulls the drawer to his night stand open. Inside are simple things; an old wallet and a disabled mobile phone, a DS, coupons, and an old, tattered tie. Nothing to help her find out who exactly the Doctor is. She sits back with a groan, feeling defeated. She lets her eyes roam the room again, and then they fall on the door near the dresser. Cocking her head, she stands up and starts towards the door.

She tugs to pull it open, expecting it to be locked, but it opens without any resistance. It's simply a closet, but it seems to be stacked with a bunch of different items. There are several suits inside, including a brown pinstriped one (in which she thinks the Doctor would look incredibly good in) and a blue one that looks as if it's never been worn. Along the bottom, converses line the wall, all different colors. The tan ones are the most worn down.

There are shelves along the top, stacked with old boxes, but it's too high for her to reach. Pursing her lips, she walks back into the Doctor's room and leans her hands on her hips, frowning. What in here could she use to make herself taller? There was practically nothing inside of here. Wandering around the room for a minutes, she finally drops to the floor and peeks underneath the bed. There was a box underneath. Grabbing onto it, she pulls it out and flips the top open. It's stacked to the top with ties. Testing it, she presses her hands down and finds that it's rather difficult to push them down. It should work. Putting the lid back on, she hoists the box up and carries it awkwardly towards the cupboard, dropping it with a loud thump that causes her to wince. She scrambles on top and then reaches up towards the first white box.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to pull it down, and then realizes just how heavy it is. "Christ!" She gasps as it falls a little. She struggles to regain a firm grip, and then sighs in relief when she does. She stumbles down from the box of ties, still gripping the second box, which she immediately puts down.

Dropping to her knees, Rose slowly lifts the top open. There's an old blanket thrown on top of it, and she picks it up, revealing what's underneath. Papers fill the entire box. She leans back with a heavy sigh, brushing a hand through her hair. This could take a while. _Could_.

She quickly starts pulling out several papers, and finds that this might be what she's looking for. There are papers about the house and about the area, old bills and requests. She pulls them out quickly, annoyed that they all say 'John Smith'. As she lets them fall to the floor, she reveals a folder that has lost its yellow color. Tilting her head, she pulls it from the back and opens it up. Inside are newspapers, but they're all turned away from the headline.

Frowning, Rose flips over the first paper, and nearly drops it. Across the top page, written in large black letters, " **Murder Suspect Charged With Deaths of** -" Rose doesn't read the rest, because she's trying not to panic, and the fact that mugshots of the Doctor are right under the headline doesn't help one bit.


	9. Chapter 9

Her fingernails dig into the paper and her whole body shakes. _Murder_? That's what he'd been hiding from her. Suddenly, she doesn't care about his name. She just wants to go home. She wants to find the police, to report him in, to be safe. She rises up slowly, using the wall for support. Her heart thumps in her chest and her mouth has gone dry. This wasn't happening. This _was not_ happening!

She starts towards the door, and then stops, freezing as she hears the front door open. She curses under her breath and closes her eyes shut tight, trying not to cry. "Rose!" The Doctor calls out. He sounds happy, excited. Cautiously, she peeks out. He's fumbling with getting his shoes off, bouncing around. She slips out the door, paper still in hand, and quietly shuts it behind her. She glances at the door behind him. If she made a run for it, would she get away? Probably not. Slowly, she walks down the hallway, the color drained from her face. Her hands are sweaty and gripping the newspaper too tightly.

When he finally finishes taking his shoes off, he hops towards her, his eyes bright. One of his arms is hidden behind his back, and despite the fear of what that could possibly be, Rose's face remains straight and she tries not to flinch when he gets to be only a few feet away from her. "Guess what!" He says cheerily. Rose doesn't reply. She can feel tears beginning to well in her eyes. The Doctor's smile slowly falls, and he looks her up and down, studying her condition.

"Hey," he says softly, taking a step towards her. Rose quickly steps back, swallowing and letting out a shaky breath. The Doctor's eyes shift emotion and he begins to look worried. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Rose's heart is suddenly ready to fly from her chest with fear. If he figured out that she knew, would he kill her? She knows she's probably being paranoid; if he had wanted to kill her, he would have done so already, but finding the paper has made any certainties, any form of trust she'd had, disappear. Her entire body shakes and she tries desperately not to burst into tears. Her chest is aching and she wants this all to be a dream. The Doctor looks ready to panic, clearly confused. "What happened?" He asks, his eyes darting around the hall and then back to her. "Did someone come while I was gone?"

Rose's legs nearly give way, so she leans against the wall for support, just barely managing to close her eyes and shake her head. Forcing herself to stand tall, she sniffs and swallows again, bringing the paper to the front of her stomach, the headline facing her. He glances down at it, clearly not understanding what it is. Jaw clenched, praying to God she'll live through this and that she is overreacting, she slowly brings the paper up and flips it in her hand so that the headline is facing his direction. She extends it towards him, not saying anything. His eyes flicker from worried, to shocked, to horrified. The item behind his back drops to the floor and spills and his arms swing back to his sides. She realizes in a bit of surprise that the object is - or was - a vanilla coffee, and that makes her heart begin aching even more.

He simply stares at the paper for what seems to be forever, and Rose's throat had become tight and dry. She shakes visibly and takes a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes beginning to sting from salty tears. Slowly, his eyes flickering back to Rose, he reaches for the paper. Rose shakes her head and drops it back to her side, letting the tears slip down her cheeks.

"Who did you kill?" She tries to ask, but her voice is hoarse and it shakes so much, she's surprised he can understand her. He stares at her, his face expressionless.

"Rose..." he whispers, and Rose twists her face up and shakes her head again, taking a step away from him.

"Who did you kill?" She screams at him, too loudly, and he winces, placing his hands out in front of him and shushing her.

"Rose, Rose, please, I-"

"No! No, you're going to tell me! You said you weren't a murderer, you _lied_! I trusted you!" She screeches, not caring at this point whether he shot her there and then.

"It's on the paper," he says slowly, looking the most upset that she has seen him since she met him.

"I don't want to read it," she chokes out. "I want to hear you say it. Who did you kill?"

He stares at her for several minutes, his eyes sad. Finally, he stands straight and shoves his hands into his pockets, looking down at the floor. "My parents," he breathes, and Rose blinks at him, horrified. Her stomach begins to twist and she has to restrain from gagging.

"That's disgusting," she gasps, and he winces, screwing his face up. His eyes, widened to the point where the brown was no longer visible, meet hers.

"Rose, it wasn't my choice, I swear..."

"No, don't say that." Her hands are shaking more than ever now and her head is beginning to ache. Oh, God, she wants to go home. She wants to go home and forget this ever happened, to forgot the Doctor. She wonders if he'll even let her. "Of _course_ you had a choice..."

"I didn't!" He argues, taking a step towards her. He freezes when she flinches. "I don't mean that kind of choice, I... you've got to understand, Rose."

"Understand _what_?" She asks, her voice lower than a whisper now. He studies her, eyes wide and sparkling with what is definitely tears. She guesses that this is probably a touchy subject for him, but at this point, she doesn't really care. He deserves to cry. "There's nothing to understand. You're sick, twisted man, and the fact that I ever believed anything else is just horrifying." She finds that she isn't scared anymore. She's simply mad. Mad and disgusted.

"I want to go home," she says after a moment of silence, and the Doctor's face drops. His eyes close and slowly, he nods, moving to press himself up against the wall.

"I'm not stopping you," he says hoarsely, his jaw clenched. Eying him carefully, she slowly begins to edge towards the door, but then stops by the split of the kitchen and the living room. Biting on her lip, she glances behind her. The Doctor is leaning against the wall still, his arm propped up against it to keep him steady. His head is bent and he's completely silent. Rose inhales, scrunching her eyes. Guilt is beginning to claw at her stomach, along with a tiny shred of curiosity.

"Explain," she says before she can change her mind, and the Doctor's arm drops. He swirls around to look at her. He looks completely shocked.

"What?"

"You said I don't understand, so... explain."

He takes a deep breath and then slowly starts forward, making sure now that he doesn't get too close to her. He moves towards the couch and sits down at one end, nodding slowly to the opposite end. She walks into the living room, but she doesn't sit down. "I think I'll stand, thanks."

Pain flashes in his eyes but he nods understandingly. "Okay." His voice cracks with the single word and he closes his eyes, taking a few moments to regain his composure. "Okay," he says again, staring up at her. Uncomfortably, she meets his gaze. "My family... my parents, they're all I had... and yes. I've told you, I killed them, but..."

"But what?" Rose asks quietly. "Why?"

He takes in a deep, shaky breath and purses his lips. "It was a while back. Six years. I was twenty, and I'd just gotten back from..." he frowns and looks away. "I don't remember. I was somewhere. A friends, maybe, but..." he shrugs shakily and then continues. "My parents, they got drunk easily. I mean... all the time. Not easily, just... every day. Honestly, I don't remember much from that night..." he pauses, closing his eyes as if trying to picture the moment. He pulls his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them.

"Maybe I was drunk, too. Maybe I was at a party. I really don't remember. I just... I just remember getting home, and seeing that they were fighting. My parents, I mean. And when I say fighting, I don't mean verbally. He was hitting her and she had a knife, and I tried to get in to stop it, I tried to get them to quit," his pace was starting to increase, his words spilling out way too quickly. Rose watches him, eyes wide, listening intently. "And I don't know, maybe my mum or dad - maybe one of them hit me, because I guess I passed out. I just remember waking up in a cell. That's it. I asked why, I begged them to explain, and they just glared at me and ignored me. It wasn't until court that they accused me of killing them both... stabbing them both ten times."

Rose's heart skips a beat and her mouth drops open. "Ten?" She whispers, and the Doctor buries his face between his legs. He shakes for a few moments before he pulls his head back up and draws in a deep breath.

"But I don't remember it - not a single moment, not a single... and I was unconscious, you'd think I wouldn't be able to kill them, but I guess there was proof, proof they wouldn't show me, said it was classified. Life in prison, they said!" He was yelling now, and as he says the last bit, he kicks out, his foot hitting the edge of the glass table. It falls to the floor and the glass shatters, the uncollected puzzle pieces breaking apart and scattering across the floor. Rose takes a clumsy step back, nearly tripping over herself. His fingers were in his hair and he looked ready to rip it out. Gasping, she bolts across the room towards him, scrambling onto the couch. Guilt and sympathy have flooded her thoughts, for the moment.

"Hey, hey, stop," she tries, sitting as close to him as she can manage. She cups his face and pushes his head back a little so that he's facing her. He avoids her eyes. She finds that he isn't crying. Even so, she can almost see him breaking apart in his eyes. His chest is heaving as he fights to calm down, and his body is tense, his fingers digging roughly into his hair. Rose brushes her thumbs lightly over his cheekbones. "You're okay, yeah? You're gonna be fine, don't worry," she whispers softly, dipping her head to try and meet his gaze.

He does an awfully good job of doing everything other than looking into her eyes, however, and she eventually gives up. After a few minutes, she pushes herself back up against the opposite end of the couch and copies his position, pulling her legs up to her stomach. She rests her chin on her knees and watching him carefully, her body tense and prepared to move if she needed to. They sit there for nearly an hour, just letting the silence wash over them.

In the meantime, Rose is flooded with guilt. She'd upset him. If she hadn't gone looking through his stuff, he wouldn't have had to remember his past. Doing so had caused him to break, which was rather shocking. Even though she had known the Doctor for only a couple days, she gathered that he was not someone who showed his emotions very often. He kept everything bundled up inside, until eventually, he snapped, and everything he'd had stored, spilled out. _In which case_ , Rose thought, _maybe this is good for him. Maybe he needs this._ Or, maybe, she's wrong about him.

Rose eventually calms down, coming upon the realization that he has no intention to hurt her at all. Of course, she had known that all along, but something inside of her hadn't wanted to accept that. She sniffs and the Doctor pulls at his earlobe awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor finally whispers. His voice is rough and croaky, as if he's been screaming for hours. His eyes are bloodshot and he stares at her. Rose meets his gaze and can't help but feel shocked as she does. His eyes are filled with hate - not directed at her, but rather, at himself. Did he hate himself? Did he hate what he did? Well... probably, yes. Rose would hate herself if she did that, too. But for some reason, she doesn't want him to hate himself. The thought of him despising himself... it scares her, for some reason.

"What?" She finally breathes, swallowing hard. He rubs his hand over his face and lets his knees drop.

"I'm sorry. For lying."

Rose takes a sharp breath and tears her gaze from him. She simply shrugs, feeling uncomfortable. "Did you..." she pauses, and he cocks his head, pursing his lips. "I don't know, I just... it doesn't seem like something you would do..." she mumbles, and he stiffens. He looks away, letting out a long, shaky breath. "Do you think you really did it?" She finishes, and he shrugs.

"I don't know. I wouldn't... I hate violence, I always have..." he pauses, rubbing at the back of his neck, his brow furrowed. "But... the said they had proof." He lifts his gaze to her again, his eyes wide. He looks scared. "I would never have hurt my family, Rose..." he says quietly. "But who else could have..." he breaks off as his voice cracks, and Rose winces, wishes she could gather to courage to go to him, and to comfort him. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes and stills, letting the room descend into silence. Rose moves to push her hair behind her ear again and then pauses as she sees the blonde strand.

It's beginning to look greasy. When was the last time she even took a shower? Her hair doesn't usually get greasy quickly, for some reason, but she could imagine she didn't smell all that fantastic. She glances at the Doctor, flushing red. "Uhm... do you... do you think I could take a shower?" She asks quietly, and his eyes flicker to her in surprise. Upon her words, a weak smile tugs at his lips and he laughs softly. He looks relieved that she has changed the subject.

"Yeah. Go ahead. There should be a brush in there, too," he says, and Rose nods her thanks, standing up slowly. She moves towards the bathroom, and then stops, biting her lip.

"Doctor?" She says, and he blinks at her. "I... I think you should get some sleep."

He purses his lips and nods slowly, dropping his eyes to the couch. "Yeah...," he mutters, "will do."


	10. Chapter 10

The Doctor isn't in the living room anymore when she gets out of the shower, so she assumes he's done as he's told and gone to bed. She drags the hairbrush that was on the counter through her hair until it's knot-free. Then, using the tooth brush that must be the Doctor's, she brushes her teeth, hoping that he won't mind. She'd never really been a germ freak, so it doesn't bother her. When she's done and completely clean, she feels amazing and refreshed. She also smells faintly of coconut, which is rather delightful. Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair and then wraps a towel around herself, picking up her clothing. She tiptoes down the hall and throws open her door. The cold air inside wraps around her and she shivers, walking inside. The water from her hair drips onto the carpet, creating a wet area beneath her feet.

Her eyes drift to the bed and she blinks in surprise. On the covers of her bed are clothing that all look to be her size. Tilting her head, she steps towards it. She drops the towel and reaches for the clothes. There is a pair of light blue jeans and a gray t-shirt with double straps. There's also a simple pair of white underwear and a white bra. She breathes a sigh of relief and begins to put on the bra and underwear.

Briefly, she wonders how the Doctor had gotten them. It would be natural to her to think that he had stolen them, but the clothes all look a little worn. Someone else had to have worn them before. Who? She frowns, deciding to ask about it in the morning. Gently, she rests the shirt and jeans onto the dresser and climbs into the bed, her eyes fluttering shut. For a few moments, Rose just shuffles uncomfortably under the covers, trying to find a position in the bed that didn't feel weird.

She eventually turns onto her side, facing the wall. This makes her feel vulnerable, however, so she turns back, staring straight up at the ceiling. She lies there, just staring at the ceiling for a frustratingly long time. She's tired, but she doesn't seem able to fall asleep. Her eyes are heavy, but even when she closes them, her brain remains active, hundreds of thoughts flipping through her head. Hundreds of questions, none of which she has the answer to.

At some point, she realizes that she's not going to fall asleep. Angry and frustrated, she tosses the covers off of her body and slips out of the bed. She must have been lying there for several hours, at least, for her hair is dry, for the most part, spare the back which is simply damp. Her eyes drift around the room, and then settle on the dresser. Curiously, she starts forward and pulls open the top drawer. Inside it is nearly stacked full of clothing, along with several other items. They're all women's clothing, and all of them look about her size. She's suddenly struck with a terrible thought. If all of this was here, someone had to lived here, with the Doctor, before her. But... what had happened to her? Had she left or... had she died?

She had thought that she trusted the Doctor again, at least a little, but this aroused questions. Her stomach was already beginning to twist into knots. Nervously, she begins to sort through the clothing until she has found a sleep shirt and plaid night pants. She quickly pulls them on and then starts towards the door, throwing it open. Immediately, she crosses the hallway towards the Doctor's room and then stops, her eyebrows furrowed.

What if it was another touchy subject for him? There was a lot of things she still didn't know about him. Maybe this woman, whoever she had been, had been someone close to him, and he had lost her. Still... she has the right to know, doesn't she? If she was living with the Doctor - who was accused of murder - she does have the right to be suspicious.

Making up her mind, she knocks on the door. When there's no reply, she nervously opens up the door. The light is off, the only thing providing her her vision being the moonlight flooding through the open window and casting the room in a pale, silver glow. Her eyes scan the room and then settle on the box near the closet. The Doctor has yet to pick it up. The papers and files and blanket are still strewn around on the floor. He must have just walked into his room and collapsed on his bed, not bothering with the objects. Shaking her head, she makes her way towards the bed, where the Doctor is asleep, the covers pulled up to his chin. He's on his side, facing her.

"Doctor?" She says, probably a bit too loudly. He stirs and frowns softly, making a small noise in his sleep. His hair, which looks silver in the moonlight, droops in front of his eyes as if it's wet. "Doctor?" She says again, softer this time. Slowly, his eyes open, and he drowsily looks up at her, frowning.

"Yeah?" He mumbles, sounding confused as to why she had came in and woken him up. Pursing her lips, Rose winces, beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. She doesn't want to upset him any more than she already has today.

"I just... I can't sleep," she grumbles. That's not a lie, of course. She really can't sleep. But that isn't what she had come in here for. The Doctor blinks and then yawns, propping himself up onto his side with his elbow. His eyes are dull and tired and he reaches up, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he rakes a hand through his hair. Rose shifts from foot to foot, folding her arms behind her back and lowering her gaze to the floor. Suddenly, he begins to shift in his bed, scooting over. Rose's eyes flicker back up in surprise, watching uncertainly as he holds out a hand.

"'Come 'ere," he mumbles, still sleepy. Rose stares at him, her jaw hung open a little. For a moment, she isn't sure that he understands what he's doing. At first, she doesn't believe that he thinks she would trust him enough to crawl in his bed. And then, he arches an eyebrow expectantly at her, and before she even knows what she's doing, she finds herself scampering forwards, getting into his bed.

Her heart is hammering, and she feels uncomfortable and stiff, but she lays down onto her side, shifting so that the covers are on top of her. Then, the Doctor reaches for the blanket, pulling it up over the both of them, and Rose feels her heart begin to stir and she relaxes. Sucking in a breath, she shuffles towards him, trying to force herself to be brave. The Doctor smiles softly and something flashes in his eyes. He reaches over for her, pulling her up against him. Automatically, her eyes flutter shut.

Surprisingly, she feels safe, wrapped up in his arms. She isn't scared or nervous. She _knows_ that the Doctor isn't going to hurt her, despite everything that she has learned about him in the past hours. She relaxes against him, her arms trapped between them. Her eyes open briefly, shock rifling through her as the Doctor presses his lips to her forehead. "Good night, Rose," he mumbles, tucking her head underneath his chin. Rose smiles and closes her eyes again, snuggling up against him, feeling warm and content.

"Good night, Doctor."

* * *

He's gone when Rose wakes up. The room is now flooded with early morning light. Rose reaches over towards the Doctor's side of the bed, but it's cold. He's been up for a while. Sleepily, she rises to her feet and stumbles across the room. She kicks something and glances down in confusion. Resting at her feet is a small, metal, tube-like object. It's silver, and the top is a blue bulb-like thing. She reaches down, picking it up and looking it over. There's a button on the side and, curiously, she presses it. A whirring sound fills the room and the bulb at the top lights up. Shrugging, she places it into the pocket of her sleep pants and then slips into the hallway, looking it up and down.

Briefly, she flashes back to when she had done the same thing several hours earlier, that time holding a newspaper that could've completely ruined her relationship with the Doctor. And yet, judging by how she had slept in his bed last night, it clearly hadn't. _Why?_ she wonders suddenly, frowning. Why hadn't it destroyed their relationship to the extent that she would have expected?

Not that she would have wanted it to, of course, but she doesn't quite understand... Rose shivers and shrugs it off. She doesn't need to worry about it. They were okay for the most part, and that's what mattered. Her eyes flicker to the bathroom door as she suddenly realizes that there's running tap water. Light floods out from underneath the door, and she thinks she can hear a faint humming coming from the room.

She starts towards it as the sound of water stops. She raises her hand to knock, but never gets to. The door swings open, and Rose takes a step back in surprise. The Doctor stands in the doorway, looking just as shocked. One of his hands is buried in his hair, in the process of ruffling it. The other is by his side. His... bare... side... her gaze travels down his body. He's wet, clearly having just gotten out of the shower. He isn't amazingly well-muscled, but his stomach isn't completely flat despite his skinniness, either. The only thing he's wearing is a fluffy white towel that's wrapped around his waist, which is rather quite loose. It looks as if it could fall off any minute. The thought makes her cheeks flush red and she jerks her head back up to his face. His own cheeks are tinted pink, but his eyes are sparkling in a little bit of amusement. He clears his throat and pulls at his earlobe.

"Hi," he says, pursing his lips. Rose nods stupidly for a second, and then snaps back into reality.

"Yes! Hi, hello... good morning," she stumbles over her words, embarrassed. The Doctor chuckles, dropping his arm back to his side.

"Didn't expect you to be up so early," he mumbles, leaning awkwardly against the doorway. Rose shrugs, raking a hand through her hair. A few strands come off and she shakes them onto the floor.

"Guess I wasn't really that tired..."

"No, guess not." Then, he grins widely at her. "You fell asleep though! That's good! Molto bene." After that, he adds, "you needed sleep, I think. Just as much as I did."

Rose nods in agreement. "Yeah, probably. We both just..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Needed to cool off. Relax?" She shrugs, feeling as if she's just spewing out random words and phrases, now. Which, she probably is. She wouldn't be surprised if she were. The Doctor has usually managed to bring out her jumpy, awkward side quite easily since they met.

They stare at each other for a minute or two, both just as awkward and embarrassed as the other. Then, suddenly, the Doctor snaps into motion, causing Rose to jump. He looks guilty when she does.

"I'd better go get dressed," he says quickly. "I've got to work today, and I got up late."

Rose nods, but doesn't move. He smiles a little and stares at her expectantly, pursing his lips to hold back a bigger grin, and, probably, a tease. Rose blinks, and then steps back to give him room to leave. "Right, sorry," she laughs, flushing again, and the Doctor shakes his head, brushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

"It's fine," he says. Rose nods and then backs up until her back is pressed up against the wall. She crosses her arms over her chest, dropping her eyes to the floor. The Doctor stands there for a few more seconds before he begins down the hall. Curiously, she peeks up under her eyelashes, smirking a little at the display he has unintentionally given her of his backside muscles. Then, she snorts at herself, and spins on her heels, scampering towards the kitchen to make something up for them to eat.

* * *

Disappointingly, he's fully dressed when he comes back out. Once again, he's got on the clothing that he had been wearing the day they met. She wonders in the back of her mind if he ever washes them (surely, he must, because they don't smell). His hair is dry and gelled up, too. He still looks a bit tired, and Rose notices that he's suddenly being careful not to make quick or jerky movements around her. Once they're settled down, each with a bowl of cereal, Rose starts to speak.

"You don't have to be so... you don't have to act like I'm a fragile doll, Doctor..."

He glances up at her in surprise, his spoon hovering in front of his mouth. Slowly, he lowers the spoon back into the bowl and begins to stir it, his brow furrowed. "No, I... I know."

Rose sniffs, swallowing the spoonful of cereal she had shoved into her mouth. "Then why are you?"

"I don't know. I don't want to scare you, I suppose," he mumbles, brushing back his hair. Rose blinks at him in surprise and then snorts.

"You're not going to," she promises, and he looks up at her, taking in a breath. He doesn't reply, and instead resumes eating, now avoiding meeting her gaze. Rose frowns and then, at that moment, she remembers the real reason she had come into his room the night before. She still hasn't asked who the clothing had belonged to.

"Hey, Doctor?" She asks quietly, uncertainly.

He looks up at her, cocking his head. She sucks on her lower lip, biting down on it. "Those clothes on my bed... the clothes I'm wearing now... whose are they?"

His eyes suddenly flash with something that Rose can't read and he stiffens. "I don't know. Just the person who lived here before me, I suppose," he says quickly and then stands up. Rose arches an eyebrow and rolls her eyes.

"Why would they leave their stuff here?" She questions, annoyed. The Doctor shuffles stiffly towards the sink, where he plops down his bowl and turns the tap on, beginning to clean it.

"They died in some accident, I think," he grumbles, avoiding looking at her. Rose glares at him and stands up with her own empty bowl, walking towards the sink as well. At first, she plans to act cross with him, but those plans diminish as she sees his face. It's red. Not from anger or annoyance, but with pain - emotional pain. Rose blinks, relaxing and feeling sympathy beginning to crawl up her spine.

"All right," she sighs, placing her own plate in the sink. "I'm not gonna force ya to tell me." The color drains from his face and he sags, looking at the sink.

"It's just something I'd rather not talk about. It's not... bad, for you," he says.

Rose purses her lips and nods, brushing her hair back. "Okay..." she says softly, watching him. His eyes finally flicker to her face and he smiles sadly, looking thankful. He takes a deep breath and stands up straight, nodding.

"I'm gonna head off, okay? I'll be back around six, probably."

"Yeah, all right."

He starts towards the door, and Rose follows. She has no intention of going with him, seeing as she's beginning to notice an aching in her legs from all the walking the night before, but for some reason, she wants to see him to the door. She stops once they're there, and Rose grabs onto his hand before he leaves. "Wait!"

He pauses and looks at her curiously. "Promise me one thing..." He nods for her to continue. "Promise me you'll stay safe, yeah?"

He grins. "Yeah, 'course." Rose smiles, and then, before she can change her mind, she takes a step towards him and stands on her tippy-toes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek and resting her hand on the opposite. He's grinning even wider when she pulls back, letting her arm fall back to her side. He tugs the door open, glancing at her again. He purses his lips, looking as if he's going to say something more, but decides against it. He hops out the door, closing it behind him, and Rose's heart is on fire, which feels both wonderful and bewildering at the same time.


	11. Chapter 11

The weeks seem to fly by with the Doctor, and after learning about his past, Rose feels a lot closer to him, on a personal level. Plus, once the Doctor realizes that Rose isn't going to leave him, he's so much more comfortable around her. She doesn't find out his name (she doesn't ask - she figures it's not really all that important, anyway) and she doesn't ask about the owner of her clothing again. Over the four weeks, he has reluctantly taken her shopping (well, they stole everything, but never mind that) for clothing (five pairs of jeans, a new pair of converse, and about seven new t-shirts - she got underwear, bras, and tampons by herself, and she actually bought those), dropped her at her mother's for two hours, and done countless things that usually only friends would do. She loves that.

He spends a lot of time out of the house, doing his job, and occasionally he takes her with him. Occasionally being about 98% of the time. In fact, that's exactly what they're doing now. Or trying to do, anyway. The Doctor has probably only picked up about two wallets, and they've been out for nearly four hours now. Usually, the minimum he would have gotten by now would probably be five. They keep getting distracted.

"- and it was totally fake!"

Rose and the Doctor both burst out laughing and he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. Their fingers are laced together and he squeezes her hand. As usual, she squeezes back. "How rude of you, Rose Tyler," he chuckles. Rose flashes him a tongue-in-teeth grin, and his smile softens. She shivers under the look he gives her and her heart skips a beat. Swallowing, she turns her attention back to the street.

"All I'm sayin' is he coulda tried to put the wig on correctly. It just lifted up in the back!"

The Doctor chuckles and runs his tongue along his upper lip. He glances away from her, his eyes drifting around the area. He lets out a bit of sigh, and Rose purses her lips, bumping her shoulder lightly against his. They both stumbled a little, but he still smiles. "No good victims?" She asks, and he nods.

"People have gotten careful. Which is very bad news for me."

Rose bites her lips and scans the area herself. Over time, she's learned what the Doctor looks for in the people he steals from. People who look busy and disoriented. Drunks, especially. People who have their wallets sticking out in plain sight or people who look as though they have had a tough night. And, while there are definitely people around who look like that, they all are walking stiffly, hands pressed to their sides. They look cautious. There have been posters up warning them of a 'skilled thief' in the area, and that news has seemed to spread all over London. Rose has suggested a few times trying someplace other than London, but the Doctor refuses, as if he's too attached to this city. Rose sighs and shrugs her shoulders.

"Well, we've been goin' at this all day, haven't we? Maybe we should take a break?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I never said food."

The Doctor flashes her a curious look, arching an eyebrow. "What, then?"

"Dunno. How 'bout a book store or somethin'?"

He sticks out his lower lip, considering the idea. "Don't see why not. Know any good ones?"

"I've seen one before around here, yeah. Never been in, but I've been told it's really good."

The Doctor nods, and then drops her hand. She's a bit disappointed at the lack of contact at first, but he suddenly winds his arm around her waist and draws her against him. She smiles softly, leaning into him a little. He does this, every so often, and she should probably be used to it by now, but it still takes her by surprise each time. She loves it, though. They walk about, scanning the stores on the street, and then Rose stops. She points across the street and he follows her finger.

Across the road is the bookstore she had been talking about, and it's painted a deep blue. The windows are shaded grey and rectangular. The sign above it reads 'Time & Space'. She grins, and so does he. "Time and Space. Interesting." They pause, and he looks at her, grinning widely. "Shall we?"

"We shall," she giggles, and he drops his arm from around her, instead holding out his hand for her to take. She does exactly that, and as soon as the cars have passed, he bolts across the street, dragging her with him.

* * *

It's gorgeous inside. She really would not have expected it to be this nice (or this big! It was so small on the outside!). When you walk in, the check out desk is on your right, and on your left, there are five rows of book stands. There is a split down the middle of the rows, so there there are ten stands in total and a place to walk. The walls are also lined with books. Rose smiles and glances at the Doctor. He grins back. "This is brilliant," he says excitedly, and she watches in amusement as he runs towards the Science Fiction area. Rose bites her lip and starts towards the first stand, kneeling down. The stand is for books that are currently top-sellers. The Divergent Series, The Fault in Our Stars, the Hunger Games, and a couple things she's never heard of.

Someone clears their throat and she jumps a bit. She whips her head around, and she purses her lips, standing up. The woman smiles and flashes Rose a little wave. The woman looks young - probably only a little older than Rose. She has darker skin and shiny black hair, which is pulled up into a pony tail. She's just a bit taller than Rose. She's wearing a pair of jeans and a dark pink cami, on which is a name tag that reads 'Martha J.'. "Hello," the woman - Martha - says, and Rose smiles.

"Hi."

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Uhm..." Rose glances around, searching for the Doctor. She can just barely see him through the rows, flipping through a comic book of some sort. "I don't think so. I'm just browsing."

Martha begins to reply, but is cut off rather quickly by an enthusiastic shout from the Doctor. She blinks and looks down the aisle. The Doctor skids to a stop by Rose's side and grins widely at Martha before raising something into Rose's view. She frowns and draws back to view the cover. It's an old Star Trek comic book. Rose raises an eyebrow, asking a silent question. What was so fantastic about that?

The Doctor rolls his eyes, but it's almost in an affectionate way. Rose rolls her eyes, too, and he snickers and nudges her shoulder with his own before flipping the comic book open and shoving it in Rose's face again. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rose can see Martha watching uncertainly, and she feels a little bad for her, as it must be rather awkward to watch.

"I don't get it," Rose sighs after a minute, and the Doctor huffs impatiently.

"It's old!" He finally whispers. "They don't print this anymore, and it's nearly impossible to find! And they have it here! This a collectable, Rose!"

Rose watches in amusement and he draws it back to himself and begins flicking through it, treating it delicately as if it will crumble under upon the touch of his fingers. He slips down and sits cross-legged on the floor. Rose sends Martha and almost apologetic look. Or, she tries, anyway. Martha's eyes are trained on the Doctor, and she's grinning from ear to ear. "He's a bit of a science geek," Rose mutters, and the Doctor looks up at her, tilting his head.

"Science geek? What does that mean?"

Rose opens her mouth to explain (although she finds it surprising that he doesn't know - surely this can't be the first time someone has called him a science geek), but suddenly Martha is cutting Rose off. "That you're obsessively enthusiastic about it," she says, amused. At that moment, Rose really kind of hates her.

"Oh," the Doctor smirks. "Nice."

Martha folds her arms behind her back, biting her lip. "Have you seen the new one? Star Trek, I mean."

The Doctor flashes a playful glare at Rose. "I would have, but Rose wanted to see something else, so we went to that instead."

"Oh," Martha mumbles, and the Doctor smiles and shrugs. "Well," the woman continues, "I could always take you." It's meant as a joke, and Rose knows that, but by the look on the Doctor's face, he doesn't. And he seems to actually be considering it.

"Really?" He asks after a moment, and Martha looks both shocked and a little.. excited.

"Well..." she lets out a nervous laugh, and Rose can see Martha actually considering it, too. Rose feels jealously and anger already beginning to bubble in her stomach, whether she wants it or not, and she quickly cuts in.

"Do you want to buy that, Doctor?" She snaps, annoyed. The pair of them both jump, looking surprised. As if they had both forgotten she was there. The Doctor looks confused, but he slowly nods. Rose purses her lips and stands back, giving him room to stand up. When he's up, Martha moves behind the desk, and the Doctor places the comic book on the counter. Martha begins ringing it up and Rose can't help but sigh. She hadn't meant to snap, and the Doctor was clearly a little suspicious now. Rose isn't even sure why had she had become jealous in the first place.

Martha had nearly been flirting (just nearly) with him, and Rose had hated that. But, she shouldn't have. The Doctor isn't  _hers_ , as much as she might want that... it isn't like he would be cheating if he went on a date with someone. Not that she thought the Doctor would - he had said before, one of the first few days Rose had known him, that he didn't do romance. Sometimes, she forgets that that more than likely includes her. He'd told her once, on one of the days that they went out, that he doesn't do domestic, either. She still isn't quite sure what he means by that, seeing as he does domestic things all the time (besides shopping. He hates that. Rose always has to do the shopping). Maybe he doesn't realize when he does domestic things.

Rose is torn from her thoughts as the sound of the Doctor's voice. She swallows and blinks, turning her attention to him. "Are you in training?"

It's takes Rose a minute to realize he isn't talking to her, but to Martha. Martha glances up in surprise. "To be a doctor," the Doctor clarifies, and Martha shrugs awkwardly.

"Sort of," she says. "I'm studying for school right now...I'm currently on fixing people up when they're injured... how did you know?"

He gestures to the shelf behind her. "Text books." He smirks suddenly, and then leans forward onto the counter. "I'm a doctor, you know. If you wanted, you could practice on me." And then he winks. He  _winks_. He's flirting, and that's so out of character for the Doctor she knows and Rose is painfully jealous now. She knows her face has gone bright red. She grips his elbow and squeezes and he turns to towards her, looking confused at first.

He frowns when he sees her. Uncertainly, his hand reaches down and he grabs her hand, threading their fingers together. They both forgot to thank Martha as they leave. "Are you okay?" He asks once they're outside.

Rose can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and she turns her head to avoid him seeing. "Fine," she mumbles. "Let's just get home, yeah? I'm tired."

The Doctor looks ready to argue, as usual, but Rose lets go of his hand and starts down the street. She hears him take a sharp, hurt breath, and she winces, but she doesn't look back. She hears him sniff, and then he begins to follow.

* * *

Once home, they both go to their separate rooms without speaking to each other. She's not mad at him, and she's pretty sure he isn't mad with her, but she still feels as though she needs some time away from him. Most of the time, they spend the whole day with each other, and every once in a while, she needs a break, and so does he. She collapses onto her bed, and winces as something digs into her skin. Shifting, she reaches behind her and pulls out the object. She blinks in surprise when she realizes what it is.

It is the strange, metal, silver object she had found the night after she found out about his parents. She had completely forgotten about it. How had it ended up here? More importantly, what on Earth was it? Looking it over, it looks a bit like a screwdriver, but there's something foreign about it. It's weird. She'll have to ask the Doctor about it, later. She gently lays it on her dresser, and then lays back down, staring up at the ceiling.

She plays with the wristband on her arm and bites at the skin of her lip, lost in thought.

She's still a bit confused about her own actions an hour ago. It's not the fact that she got jealous of the Doctor and Martha and the thought of them going out to the movies together, or the way he had flirted with her. It's the fact that she actually showed that she was jealous. There have been lots of times Rose has been jealous, but never once has she displayed that jealously. She's always kept it close to her chest and pretended that she didn't care.

She's actually a bit angry with herself for being jealous, too. Lately, she's been letting her emotions (mostly those for the Doctor) get ahead of her, and she's starting to get a bit worried that he's going to notice. Hell, maybe he already has, in which case, he probably thinks she's a child and he can't wait to get rid of her.

Feeling embarrassment crawling up her spine at the thought, she drags the rest of her body onto the bed and rests hers head on her pillows. She doesn't feel tired, but she rather quickly passes out.

And, an hour later, she's awoken by a knocking at the door. Moaning, she pulls herself up into a sitting position and brushes her hair out of her eyes. "Yeah?" She mumbles sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. The door opens quickly, and the Doctor pokes his head inside, grinning at her.

"Hello!" He says cheerily, stepping into the room. Rose smiles and tilts her head.

"Hi."

"We haven't shared our stories today," he reminds her. Yes - they still do that. Neither of them have forgotten. They properly started it the day after the Doctor told her about his parents, and they have made sure not to miss a single day, even if they spend the whole day together, as they usually do.

"You start," Rose says, just like she always does. The Doctor smiles and crawls up onto her bed. Rose scoots over a bit and he flops down next to her, his head sinking into the pillow. He wriggles around a bit, trying to get comfortable, and Rose sinks down as well, propping her head up with her arm.

" _Well_ ," he begins, his voice a hushed whisper, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling. His face lights up as she does so, and he continues with a huge grin on his face. Rose listens intently the whole way through. She never gets to share hers though, because for the second time that they've known each other, they both fall asleep in the same bed, this time with Rose's head on the Doctor's chest.


	12. Chapter 12

She wakes up with a headache and a sore throat that makes her want to scream (which she's pretty sure she couldn't do, with her throat so sore). She attempts to pull herself out of the bed, but instead falls from it, the blankets tangling up with her legs. Her stomach flips and she moans.

In matter of seconds, the Doctor is peering over the edge of the bed, his brow furrowed in concern. His eyes sweep over her and he cocks his head, on which sits a complete mess of hair that she really wishes she could just run her fingers through and pull at. She manages to restrain herself from doing so as she sits up and instead rubs the sleep from her eyes and pulls her shirt down, which has ridden up to reveal her pale skin.

The Doctor beams his fantastic, heart warming grin at her. It's contagious, and she finds herself smiling back. "Good mornin'," she says, and is surprised by how raspy her voice is. She clears her throat, which only makes it hurt more. The Doctor's smile fades and he hauls himself up into a sitting position, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Rose struggles to her feet and then plops down next to him. She presses her palm to the side of her head, which is currently throbbing with pain.

"You alright?" He asks, his hand moving to find hers. Once they touch, they automatically entwine their fingers, upon habit. Rose smiles weakly and nods. She begins to attempt to speak, but it ends up in a coughing fit. She huffs and drags a hand through her hair.

"I guess not," she rasps, and then coughs again. The Doctor looks excessively worried now, his chocolate eyes wide. Rose wants to laugh, brush his hair from his face, and tell him that she's fine and that they should go see a film. She is also quite tempted to kiss him... but... what? Where had that thought even come from? She shouldn't be thinking about  _that_.

Although, in fairness, he is ridiculously close. She can feel his breath on her cheek and it would actually be really easy to bury her fingers in his thick, glorious hair and snog him senseless. But, as much as she may want to, she can't.

(Because Rose is sick. Oh – also, because they're just friends. Mostly that, of course…)

"Stay here," the Doctor orders, and Rose starts as she's torn from her thoughts. She frowns and watches in confusion as the Doctor leaps to his feet and then pauses to stretch. Her eyes immediately flicker to the sliver of skin revealed. She mentally scolds herself, then forces herself to look back to his face and –

and he's looking at her. And he's smirking. And  _he knows that she looked_. She can feel her cheeks beginning to heat up and she snaps her head to the side, wishing she could throw herself out of a window. She doesn't care that he found it amusing, because that probably means he thinks she's just a stupid teenager… right?

She glances back towards him, but he's not even in the room anymore. She frowns and swallows. Letting out a long sigh, she draws herself back up against the wall and sticks her legs out, her feet dangling over the edge of the bed. Soon enough, the Doctor is back, an orange bottle in his hand. He smiles and shakes it, the contents rattling about.

"Aspirin. This should help," he chirps and then pops it open, shaking one of the pills out onto his hand. She nods and the Doctor drops it onto her palm. She quickly dry swallows it and then clears her throat afterward, scrunching up her face. The Doctor blinks at her, and then wrinkles his nose.

Rose frowns. "What?"

"Nothing. Just have a bit of a headache myself."

"Then… take an aspirin?"

He shakes his head. "I can't. I'm allergic. Would probably kill me, actually."

Rose's eyes widen and her jaw drops a little. "What, seriously?"

"Yes." He laughs at the look on her face, and then shrugs. Rose tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

"If you're allergic to it, why do ya' got it in your house?"

The Doctor draws in a sharp breath at her words and presses his lips together, glancing away. He frowns a little, and Rose winces, knowing she has said the wrong thing. It's so weird, the little things that make him like this, but over her month with him, she's learned that even things that seem like they couldn't possibly affect him in any way will upset him. They bring up memories, and as soon as that happens, he shuts up and refuses to talk about it with her.

She hates it when he does that.

Because he does that, she often treats him the same way, shutting up as soon as he says something that could have brought up painful memories, mostly concerning her father. He clearly gets annoyed, and possibly a little offended by it, when she does things like this, but he doesn't yell at her or tell her off; she's sure that he knows what she's doing.

Shaking the thoughts off, she begins to slide from the bed, but suddenly, the Doctor grabs hold of her wrist. She frowns and whips her head towards him. He has one of his eye brows arched and he looks a little confused.

"Sorry, but I believe when someone is ill, they  _are_  meant to rest in bed, are they not?"

"Doctor!" She gasps, exasperated, and he smiles a little. His hands slip over towards her shoulders, which are bare, due to the style of her shirt. Rose groans, annoyed, but slips back, promising herself silently that he can't keep her in all day. But then, quite suddenly, he's doing something with his fingers – a sort of kneading (she knows what it is, a massage, but this is a hell of a lot better than any massage she's ever gotten), and she squeaks.

He snickers and his thumb presses into the space between her shoulder blades. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets out a breath, relaxing into him. He pulls her into a different position, so that she's sitting in front of him, and continues what he's doing. A few minutes in, he stops, and makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, sounding surprised.

"What's this?" He asks, and she knows what he's talking about immediately. There's a burn, right at the base of her neck that she got when she was little. It never properly healed, leaving a dark mark.

"Oh, it's just… it's a long story. I played with fire," Rose mumbles under her breath, just wishing he would go back to the massage. However, what he does next is better – but, it still shocks her. There's suddenly something pressing against the mark – his lips, she knows it – and she gasps before she can stop herself. Quicker than lightning, he withdraws, his arms falling from her shoulders. She quickly turns to face him. His face is flushed and he refuses to meet her gaze, his eyes focused intently on her pillow.

She wants to say something, but at this moment, she isn't quite sure what she should be saying. Her mind is reeling, searching desperately for the correct words. When she says nothing, he finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry," he grinds out, his hands clenching into fists. Rose shakes her head immediately.

"I wasn't – I didn't… you don't have anything to be sorry for." She tumbles over her words, not quite sure how to respond.

"I shouldn't have…" he trails off, clearly uncertain and confused, now. Rose bites her lip, studying him. She can see the fear glowing in his eyes, and something tugs at her heart. Does he really think she's going to keep her distance from him now, just because of that? It was such a simple thing, and her surprised reaction seemed to have terrified him. After a moment, she leans up and forward and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. He stiffens briefly, but then relaxes and lets out the breath he had been holding. He meets her eyes and purses his lips, attempting at a smile. It just comes out lopsided and she can't help but giggle.

Her giggle clearly cheers him up, because he grins properly, his eyes sparkling. She grins back, and then, without warning, the Doctor leaps from the bed. The sudden movement throws her backwards a bit. He catches her from behind and moves her back onto the bed.

"I'll be back!" He chirps, and Rose frowns.

"Where are ya goin'?"

"Just to the kitchen, don't worry. I won't leave just yet."

When he says the words, her heart drops, just a little. "But you are leaving? To work?"

He smiles rather sympathetically and nods. "I'll come back at the usual time, though. Six."

Rose nods and purses her lips, and then she pauses, smirking. "Are you going to cook me something, then?"

The Doctor places his tongue on his upper lip, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. "I might be."

"You? Cooking?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothin', just… make sure the fire alarm works, yeah?"

The biggest, stupidest, most challenging grin appears on the Doctor's face, and her heart flutters (and she doesn't really care, at this point). "Oh, you're on, Rose Tyler. You're so on."

* * *

He wins (of course he does). His food is, actually, delicious, probably one of the best things she has had in a few years. Well – she's tasted his food before, but those were simple things – eggs and half burnt pancakes. This is an actual meal. There's a steak on the left side of the plate (with a drop of lemon and it's cooked perfectly) and on the top of the plate, there's a salad of sorts, that looks better than delicious. On the right, there's cut up bits of strawberries, which have been dipped in chocolate.

"You spoil me," Rose laughs softly, cuddling into the Doctor's side. He chuckles around his fork, swiveling his gaze from the big television screen to look at her. Although they're still in Rose's room, on her bed, he has pulled a large, flat screen TV into her room. They're watching a show called  _Supernatural_  (and they both agree that the angel and the hunter are in love).

"Good," he answers simply. "I'm trying to."

Rose doesn't respond to that, just leans her head against him, her eyes falling half shut. She gazes up at him, silently counting his freckles. The only light source in the room is the television, which has cast them both is a pale glow. She finished her tea a while ago, but the Doctor still has his in his lap. Rose had to help him cut his meat up, earlier, mostly because one of his arms is around her shoulders, and it seems that he can't be bothered to remove it.

With his finger, he keeps drawing circles on her shoulder. She doesn't know why, but for some reason, she feels as if whatever he is drawing is somehow connected to him and his past, and it makes her curious.

So, when the episode is done and the Doctor has finished tea, she decides to ask.

"What are you drawing?"

He looks at her and frowns. "What?"

"On my arm. You were drawing something. What was it?"

"Circles."

"Yeah, but…" she pauses and bites down on her lip. "It was… practiced, almost. Like they meant something."

For a moment, the Doctor looks uncertain. And then, he smiles. "Oh, you're clever, Rose. Of course, I already knew that." He sits up properly on her bed and crosses his legs. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forwards, cupping his chin in his hands. "You're right." He pauses, suddenly looking uncertain again. Rose smiles softly, extending her hand to him. He drops one hand and lets it fall into hers. She squeezes his gently.

"It's… a language."

"What? Really?"

"Yup." He pops the 'p', as usual.

"Where did you learn it?"

He smiles again, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Not in the way that she wants it to. He looks sad, now, and she hates that look on him. "It's mine. My language."

"You're not English?"

He shakes his head, slowly. "No. I'm not."

"You  _sound_  English."

"Yes."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Okay, then... where are you from?"

"I'm from…" His eyes flicker, and she can see him change his mind about what he's about to say. "Gallifreyan. The language, I mean.. it's called Gallifreyan."

"Gallifreyan…" she repeats under her breath and he nods. She doesn't pester him about where he's from, even though on a normal basis, she probably would. His gaze travels the room and then lands on the dresser, where the silver object with the blue tip is laying. He nods towards it, and Rose gives it to him.

He smiles and holds it up. "One end –" he points to the blue tip and clicks the button. "Sonic screwdriver. Other end – " he flips it around and pulls off the black cap on the end. "Pen." He reaches for her wrist, taking it delicately between his fingers. Slowly, he begins to draw on her wrist. His circles are impossibly perfect. She bites her lip as the tip of the pen tickles her skin.

After nearly five minutes, he draws back, and her entire wrist is covered in the writing. "It's gorgeous," she whispers, awed. He smiles softly in return.

"Yeah," he says. "It was."

She lifts her eyes to him, confused by his past tense, but based on the look on his face, he doesn't have any interest in letting her delve further into that. So, instead, she asks, "What does it say?"

He purses his lip and takes a deep breath. He takes her wrist once more and begins to trace the circles. Rose shudders at the soft touch. "It says…" his eyes flutter shut. Rose watches him uncertainly. He takes another deep breath and reopens his eyes. "It's says 'My Rose Tyler'."

She almost can't hear him when he tells her, but as the words come into understanding, her heart flutters. "Yours…?" She asks quietly. His head lifts and he meets her eyes.

"Mine," he says, and she can't help the smile that covers her lips. He smiles a little as well, and then lets her wrist go. "I need to leave," he sighs after a minute or two of silence. Rose's heart sinks, and she nods slowly, watching as he gets up and starts towards the door.

"Are you sure I can't come with you?"

"I won't be gone long," he promises, pausing in the doorway. "I'll be back around six, okay?"

She nods hesitantly, her gaze falling to her bed sheets. He sighs, and drums his fingertips against the door for a moment. She glances up as she hears him coming back towards her. She draws her lips up into a small smile, and he dips down, pulling her into a tight hug. His face buries into neck. She quickly returns the hug, doing the same and hugging him as close as she can.

The hug seems to last much longer than usual, and she feels rather empty when he pulls back. "Be safe, yeah?" She mumbles, and he nods.

"I will, Rose. I promise. Get better, okay? I want you with me tomorrow!"

"Okay." She grins, biting her lip, and he smirks.

"I'll see you soon."

She can't force anymore words out, so she just watches as he turns and leaves.

* * *

He gets home half an hour late, which doesn't bother her as much as the condition he is in when he arrives home does. She's sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal when he quietly opens the door, panting and limping. She jumps to her feet and bolts towards him, her gaze sweeping over his body.

He's leaning all of his weight onto his left foot and there is a long cut running along his cheek. It isn't bleeding too heavily, nor is it very deep, but it still makes her stomach churn with worry.

She quickly brings him over to the couch and settles him down. Then, she fetches a cloth and dampens it with warm water in the bathroom. When she returns, the Doctor is laying sprawled out on the couch with his head tilted back over the arm, his eyes closed and his tongue poking out as if he's tasting the air. She shakes her head in amusement and settles down in front of him on the floor.

He opens his eyes to look at her and smiles happily. "Hello," he chuckles, and Rose rolls her eyes, beginning to dab at the cut on his cheek to clean up the blood.

"What happened?" She mumbles, her thumb ghosting over the cut. He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, which already looks windblown.

"I ran into the copper."

Rose scrunches up her nose and nods for him to continue. The Doctor draws himself up into a sitting position and then reaches for her. She grabs a hold of his arms and lets him pull her up into his lap. She curls up against him, her head resting against his chest. She loves moments like these – she loves listening to the gentle pounding of his heart. He wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on her head, letting out a sigh.

"I did something stupid," he admits. "I didn't have my mask, and I tried to pickpocket him. Thought it would be rather amusing if I could away with it."

"You didn't," Rose guesses, and he smirks, nodding. Rose can't find the heart to smile. "But… then, now he knows what you look like, doesn't he?"

The Doctor's smirk falls. "Yeah," he grumbles. "We'll just have to be extra careful, I suppose."

"Maybe you should take a couple days off…" she suggests, and he quickly shakes his head.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just… can't."

There's more behind why he can't, and Rose knows it, but she doesn't push him. Pressing her lips together, she wiggles away from his grip and stands up. He glances at her, arching an eyebrow. Rose smiles.

"Let's get some sleep yeah?"

He nods, jumping up with more energy than he should probably have. "Okay." Walking down the hallway, he asks if she's feeling any better, and she shrugs.

"Sort of," she says, even though she probably feels worse than before. He seems to sense she's lying because he simply rolls his eyes. He doesn't say any more about it though. Once they're at the section where they should split off to go to their respective rooms, she expects him to let her hand go. He doesn't.

Instead, he begins to drag her into his room. She's surprised, to say the least, but she doesn't resist, or say anything, seeing as she can already sense that he's rather tense about trying to bring her into his room. He nods towards his bed, and she sits down on the closest side.

He moves to the dresser and pulls out a set of night clothing. Quickly, she snaps her vision to the door, knowing it's probably best if she doesn't watch him change. After a minute or two, he slips into bed, wearing a gray t shirt and a set of red, plaid pajama bottoms. Rose glances next to her and reaches for the lamp, pulling down on the cord. The room is cast in darkness and, suddenly feeling strangely vulnerable in the blackness, she snuggles underneath the covers.

She isn't expecting anything more than that, but, quite suddenly, there's an arm winding around her waist and tugging her close. The Doctor pulls her towards him, spooning her. Their fingers entwine and the Doctor buries his face into her neck. She can feel him smile against her skin. She bites her lip, grinning softly. "I'm so glad I met you, Rose Tyler," he whispers against her skin.

At that point, she shudders, having to fight the urge to just flip around and snog the idiot senseless. Because, dear God, as much as she wants to deny it, Rose Tyler is hopelessly in love with the Doctor.

* * *

He leaves early in the morning, but wakes her up to see if she wants to come. She does, but she feels horrid. She's nearly lost her voice and her head is pounding. She knows she needs to stay home. He nods in understanding, tells her he'll be home at six, and kisses her forehead, leaving her in his bed. As soon as he leaves the house, Rose begins to feel sick to the stomach, and it isn't because of the illness; it's because something about today feels horribly and utterly wrong.


	13. Not Another Happy Ending

When the Doctor had told Rose he would be back at six, she didn't expect him to be home at six on the dot. However, she didn't expect him to be seven hours late, either. At one A.M, Rose is still awake, curled up on the couch with a blanket from the Doctor's bedroom pulled over her shoulders. She's shivering slightly, drawing into herself. She feels much better now, except for her stomach. She's thrown up twice in the past hour, which may be due to worry more than anything else.

She tries, over and over, to convince herself that the Doctor is all right, that he isn't dead somewhere in the streets or locked up in prison. Or, perhaps he's simply abandoned her, tired of her. She mentally hits herself, banishing those thoughts from her head. The Doctor wouldn't do that; she's positive of that, even if there was a time when she wasn't so sure. Taking a deep breath, she tries to focus on something else. Anything, whatever she can - but there really isn't anything to think about.

Her eyes drop to the object in her hands - a sonic screwdriver, the Doctor had called it. She hadn't been thinking about it when he had said the words, so she hadn't asked about what that meant. However, looking it over, it just seems to be a toy. It's plastic, for the most part, and the bit that makes it extend keeps breaking off. Perhaps, she thinks, it's a prototype, and the Doctor never got around to actually making what he intended to make. It doesn't particularly matter either way, though.

She's alone, and she's scared, and she misses the Doctor. She misses his soft brown eyes and his gorgeous smile. She misses his touch and his voice. Sighing, she slips down on the couch so that she's lying on her back. She draws her legs to her stomach and flips onto her side, staring blankly at the telly, her brow furrowed. The sonic screwdriver slips from her hand and drops to the floor.

Where on Earth could he be that he couldn't even call her? A text or, hell, even a messenger or something. Certainly he must know people in London, why couldn't he send someone to tell her that he was OK? Taking a sharp breath, Rose closes her eyes, trying her best to fall asleep (even though she's positive she won't be able to). And then, the front door flies open and smacks against the wall, and she screams before she can stop herself.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she staggers to her feet and whips to face the door, eyes wide. The Doctor slams the door shut and then leans against the wall, lowering his head. He gulps for breath and Rose frowns, keeping her mouth shut tight as she watches. He's breathing heavily, and he keeps coughing, as if he's been running.

"Doctor?" She finally says, taking a step forward, raising one eyebrow. He raises his head and fixes her with a hard glare. It sends shivers down her back and she steps away, her eyes widening. The room is too dark to make his figure out, but something doesn't seem quite right. Not knowing what else to say, she points out what is probably obvious to him, "it's one in the morning."

He frowns and shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything. Rose winces as he stumbles away from the wall, nearly falling to the floor. She begins to move forward and help him, but he stumbles away from her. "Don't," he rasps out, and Rose stiffens. His voice is strained, as if he's in pain. He's holding his arm against his stomach.

"What happened?" She whispers as he makes his way down the hallway on unsteady legs.

"Get your phone," he growls instead of answering her question. "Call your mother. Get her to come here."

Rose pauses in her steps, jaw dropping.  _What?_  "I... I don't understand. Why?"

"Rose!" He hisses angrily, and she flinches away from him, startled by his harsh tone. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and bends over, grinding his teeth together. Rose wants nothing more than to run up to him, to figure out what is wrong with him, but she has the horrid feeling he won't let her near him. "Rose," he says again, his voice cracking this time. "Please. If you've ever trusted me, then listen to me now."

Once again, a shiver crawls up her spine, but this time, she does as told, dropping the blanket that is still wrapped around her and bolting towards her room. Her phone has been left on the dresser, and she quickly snatches it up and punches in her mother's number. Thankfully, it only rings once before her mum picks up.

" _Rose! I'm so glad you finally -_ "

"Not now, mum," she interrupts, ignoring the impatient huff from the other end. Something falls and causes a loud bang to echo through the house. She frowns and glances at the door, but quickly dismisses it. "Something's wrong, I don't know what. You've gotta come get me, though."

" _I've got no idea where you are_!" Her mum reminds her, and Rose scrunches her nose, nodding to herself. She quickly tells her the address, and her mother sniffs in annoyance.

" _Has he hurt you, Rose? Cos' I swear, if that man has laid one finger on ya, I'll..._ " she trails off as Rose doesn't make an attempt to interrupt her. Jackie gasps, sounding horrified and angry. " _Has_   _he_?"

"No, mum," Rose replies, sighing. She runs a hand through her hair, and then tucks several strands behind her ear. "I'm fine... I'm not so sure about 'im though. Please, just get here as soon as you can, okay?"

Hesitantly, her mother agrees. "Thank you," Rose sighs. Jackie hangs up, and Rose stuffs the mobile into her pocket and hurries back out, into the hallway. The Doctor's door is wide open, but he's not inside. There's a mess on his bedroom floor however, and there's something odd on the carpet that seems to be making it a darker shade than it should be. She shakes it off and glances down the corridor. He's not in the hallway, either. Frowning, she starts down the corridor, her heart thumping rapidly against her ribs. She peers into the living room, and scans it over quickly. Upon finding it empty, she walks towards the kitchen, where the light has been turned on. She uses the pillar to swing herself around, and then she freezes.

Her heart drops and her throat tightens upon the sight in front of her. The familiar white tiles of the kitchen floor are now stained with blood. A trail of the red liquid leads to the Doctor, who has collapsed against the counter. His head is thrown back, jaw slack and eyes shut tight. Small, whimpering noises continue to slip from his red lips. His chest in rising and falling far too quickly as he tries desperately to gulp down lungfuls of air.

His hands are rested over his stomach, but applying no pressure, as if he's trying to stop the bleeding but can't work up the power. Rose feels bile rise in her throat, and forces herself to keep it down as she scrambles across the kitchen, dropping by the Doctor's side.

"Doctor…" She forces the name out, swallowing and biting down on her lip. The Doctor twitches at the sound of her voice, but he doesn't open his eyes or respond. Her eyes drop to where his hands are resting. Underneath his palms is what is undeniably a bullet wound. It doesn't look particularly fresh, but blood is still pouring out. There's a second one, higher up, and it looks as if it's only just avoided hitting his lungs.

Her hands shake as she cups at his cheek, using her other hand to try and brush his hair from his forehead, which is soaked with sweat. His groans at the contact, his brow furrowing. "Doctor,  _please_." Unsure what to do, she lightly presses her fingertips to the vein in his neck. She can only just feel his pulse beneath her fingers.

Immediately, a whimpering noise breaks from her throat, and she curses loudly. "Doctor, please, you… oh, God…" Her eyes are watering and her throat feels sore. Her head is spinning, and it almost feels like the room is doing the same. The Doctor frowns again, his head lolling to the side. Finally, his eyes flicker open, and he fixes Rose with a confused gaze, his eyelids heavy.

Rose sits up straighter, the hand on the Doctor's cheek dropping to the highest wound. She presses lightly, and his breath hisses out from between his lips in pain. "What happened?" She chokes out, pursing her lips together tightly and trying to keep back her tears. The Doctor shakes his head slowly and then coughs, his throat sounding blocked.

Eventually, her words seem to register in his head. "Ah…" he chuckles awkwardly, but it quickly dwindles into a sob. "Bullets," he frowns and coughs again. Rose feels useless. His skin has lost its color, faded to a pale white, except for his cheeks which are flushed pink. Really, if she focuses hard enough, she can almost pretend that he's just had a long, troubled day at work. When he speaks, however, he pulls her out of that fantasy. That  _hope_.

"Damned copper… wasssn't… wasn't lookin'." His voice is slurred a bit as he speaks. Wrinkling his nose, he drops his gaze to the lower wound. He frowns slightly and moves his hand to get a better look. The bullet has torn through his clothing and is clearly deeply embedded in his abdomen. Rose shakes her head slowly, her breath coming out similar to the Doctor's. Hers is more due to panic, rather than injury, however.

"I don't… I don't know what to do, Doctor. How do I help? Please, tell me," she whispers.

His eyes meet hers and Rose blinks, both shocked and confused by the intensity in his stare. "You don't." He grits his teeth, swallows hard and tries to suck in a breath. Rose rears back, her head spinning in denial against his words.

"Stop it," she spits out. "Don't you… don't you dare say that,  _tell me what to do_!"

He purses his lips, his eyes falling shut again. Panic flaring in her chest, she gently shakes his shoulder. He moans, still desperately trying to catch a breath. She presses her fingers to his neck once more. His pulse seems to be even weaker than before. Rose closes her eyes shut tight, letting a cry spill from her lips. He can't do this, not now! This isn't fair! Not for her, and not for him.

Her mind flickers back to several hours before, and she tries, she really, honestly tries, to pretend that everything is okay. That the Doctor is grinning at her, hugging her like he never wants to lose her, like she's his life support. He looks nothing like this now. All the energy, all of that enthusiasm, all of that affection in his eyes has been drained from him. And, chances are, she won't see it again. She won't see him smile, and she won't get to hug him as close as she possibly can, wishing she could spit out the three most important words on her mind. This is the last time for any of that, and it makes her want to scream until her throat is raw.

The thoughts make her sick and her heart jerks. She looks back up at the Doctor, wetting her quickly drying lips.

His eyes are open again, but he looks far too sleepy. "Rose Ty…" he seems confused for a moment, and he looks away. "Rose… T…"

"Tyler," Rose whispers, tears spilling over. The Doctor dips his eyes, attempting at a nod. The movement seems to worsen his condition, somehow, because suddenly, he's bending over, and is sick on the flooring in front of him. Rose glances away, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. Her eyes are stinging and she tries to blink the tears away, but blinking only seems to make it worse.

When the Doctor finally manages to pull himself back up, his eyes are unfocused, and his chest is rising and falling quicker than ever. He swallows thickly and ends up coughing and spitting vomit and small specks of blood from his mouth.

How long has he been bleeding? Rose wonders. It can't have been a short time, if he's in this condition. He must have been bleeding, heavily, for a few hours now.

"You can't do this to me, Doctor," Rose grinds out, biting on her tongue and trying desperately to hold back her whimpers. She meet his eyes, but instead of replying, his eyes roll into the back of his head and his body sags, incapable of keeping upright any longer. She reaches forward, resting both of her hands on his cheeks, her throat tight. She figures, whatever she says next, he won't hear, anyway. "I love you," she whispers, leaning forward and resting her forehead gently against the Doctor's. He doesn't reply. Doesn't even let out a breath; his chest has stopped moving.

Suddenly, the front door slams open and the house is flooded with angry, commanding voice. Rose grips the Doctor's cold and bloody hand and gives it a squeeze, gritting her teeth. (He doesn't squeeze back).

Forceful, strong hands grip Rose's shoulders, and a scream rips from her throat as they pull her away, kicking out to try and get away from them. Two police man drop by the Doctor, examining his limp form. Rose feels bile rising in her throat as she realizes just how motionless the Doctor is, and this time, she doesn't bother keeping it back as she's sick on someone's shoes. From that moment, she begins screaming. Screaming for the Doctor, his name, over and over, and for them to stop.

_Help him!_  She thinks, but can't force the words back her lips. Her throat is beginning to feel raw and the screams break into sobs. She barely has time to register what's happening next as something jams into the side of her neck and her vision becomes blurred.

She can just make out one of the policewomen crouched by the Doctor. Her fingers are pressed to the Doctor's neck, and after about a minute, the woman looks and the police officer across from her and – and everything fades to black.

* * *

When Rose wakes up, her vision is, at first, dotted with black spots. Goosebumps have formed all down her arm and her back is aching. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear her vision. The area around her is cold and she feels lonely. Slowly, she hauls herself into a sitting position and slumps forwards, her eyes drifting lazily around the room. She doesn't understand where she is at first, and then it registers.

A cell. She is in a cell.

The room is made of stone, and it is dark inside, expect for a small light in the hallway, just out of reach due to the sturdy bars blocking it. There is a window, just above her head, in which she can see the dirty streets of London. It is, of course, barred off. Leaves and garbage litter the floor, making her feel dirty. She is sitting on a hard, uncomfortable bed that is attached to the wall through screws and chains. She is still dressed in her clothes from the night before, which are blood stained. Her skin, however, has been washed clean.

Sniffing, she pulls her legs up to her stomach and wraps her arms around her knees, eyes darting around the area. She listens nervously to the sound of cars passing by, and people talking on their mobiles. There is a noise coming from somewhere down the hallway, but she can't be sure where.

A door opens somewhere, and she hears voices, one of which she recognizes very well.  _Mickey_. What is he doing here? She glances up towards the bars, frowning. She tries to make out what he is saying to the other speaker - another man - but their voices are muffled.

Eventually, they come into view, and Rose stands up. Mickey's eyes land on her, and he grins widely, folding his arms across his chest. The man with him, who is dressed like a police officer, mumbles one last thing, and then turns to leave. Rose wraps her arms around herself, staring blankly at her boyfriend. Mickey tilts his head, pursing his lips.

"Hey," he says. "How are you doing?"

"Uhm... I'm not sure," Rose responds honestly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Mickey frowns, but he nods. Suddenly, memories from the night before overwhelm her, and her stomach clenches. "The Doctor," she gasps out, moving to the bars. She grips them tightly, so tight that her knuckles turn white. Mickey cocks his head curiously.

"What, that man that kidnapped you?"

Rose grits her teeth and slowly nods. "Yeah. Him. Is he okay? What happened to him? Where is he?"

Mickey rears back in surprise, shocked by her overload of questions. He shifts uncomfortably, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dunno. I mean... he's not... why? Why do you care?"

Rose glares at him through the bars. "Because he was my  _friend_ , Mickey, no matter what he did!"

Mickey suddenly looks crestfallen, and a heavy weight settles in Rose's stomach. She doesn't want to hear it. She knows what he's going to say, so she doesn't really need to, but for some reason, she feels as if she needs a confirmation. "He's... he lost too much blood last night, Rose, I'm... I'm sorry... That man - the Doctor... he's dead."


	14. Epilogue

**Four months later...**

The happy, excited screams make her jump, nearly losing her footing as she stumbles backwards, away from the entrance. The lights are blinding and her ears are beginning to ring from the loud noises. She forces a smile and squeezes her eyes shut, blinking until she can see properly. Shareen is immediately by her side, eyes shining and grin stretching from ear to ear. Someone throws confetti in the air, and Rose throws out a giggle to appease the guests.

Jackie rushes forwards, throwing her arms around her. Rose gasps in surprise, awkwardly attempting to hug her in return. "Happy birthday!" Jackie squeals, and Rose's lips twitch in amusement.

"Thank you!" Rose replies, brushing her hair from her tired eyes. Her gaze travel around the room curiously. A lot of people - some she doesn't even know - are standing around, grinning and chatting happily. Mickey is in the corner with his new girlfriend - Rose forgets her name. Shareen has swanned off to talk with old high school friends. There are several balloons - red and green and white - bobbing around above their heads.

A few relatives are drawing near, and Rose suddenly feels a bit sick. She isn't used to attention. She hasn't had much for a couple months - although, that's probably her fault. Someone that Rose doesn't know envelops her in a hug, repeatedly wishing her a happy birthday. Rose smiles wearily and nods and thanks them.

Mickey smiles and waves, and she pulls her lips up in something that isn't quite a smile. He flashes her an expression that she thinks is meant to look sympathetic, but instead just looks like a tipsy, flirty smirk. Her eyes feel heavy, and honestly, she just wants to lay down. Her head is pounding from her long day at work and her body feels sluggish. Would they notice if she just... slipped away?

Uncertain, she tries to subtly make her way to the hallway that her bedroom is in, but she is quickly swamped by more people. Someone maneuvers her to the couch and sits her down, and Rose sighs and shudders, rubbing at her forehead. Shareen plops down next to her, rambling on about some new guy she's just met, about how perfect he is how much she adores him. Rose doesn't pay much attention, feeling too overwhelmed to do so.

Someone hands Rose a piece of cake, but she just sits it down on the coffee table, swallowing hard and trying to keep up with all the questions being thrown at her.

"Hello, Rose! How's the new job?"

"Happy birthday! Twenty one now, wow! You're growing up so fast."

"So, any new men in your life, Rose?"

Rose clenches her hands into fists, choosing to ignore the questions and comments. It's weird being around so many people. For the past four months, she's been rather secluded, avoiding people who she knew. Of course, she had to speak with people at her new job (a business she didn't actually remember the name of - she didn't like it much, but it paid well), but even then, her office was mostly separated from her co-workers, and all she did was read over papers and play the part of her boss's bitch, fetching him coffee and such.

Yet, it still manages to tire her out every day.

Rose flashes a nervous look at her mother who simply raises an eyebrow. Rose shrugs and slumps down, averting her eyes from the people in the room. Her head is aching and everyone is talking and people keep talking to her and Shareen is touching her hair and her clothes and talking way too fast and -

and someone slaps her on the back - far too hard - and Rose jumps to her feet with a yell, her patience shattering. The room falls silent, and Rose instantly feels a blush creeping up onto her cheeks and spiraling down her chest. Swallowing, her gaze flits around the room. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and quietly, keeping her head down, she walks swiftly towards the door, closing it gently behind her. She hops around for a minute, peeling her black heels from her feet. She dumps them by the door, and then starts down the stairs, ignoring the metal digging into the skin of her feet.

Her black dress, which reaches her knees, is a little too thin, and it's beginning to get chilly outside. She shivers, squeezing shut her eyes. The rocks dig into the pads of her feet and she bites her lip, jumping around to avoid further pain.

Eventually, she reaches smooth sidewalk. She keeps her head down, her throat feeling tight. She's desperately fighting the insistent urge to cry. She hadn't wanted a birthday party. She'd specifically told her mother that. But, of course, to Jackie Tyler, no birthday was complete without a party and probably a bit of alcohol.

Rose had grown used to not talking to people over the past four months. Four months ago, she had locked herself in her room and stared at the wall, void of emotions. She'd come out only to use the bathroom, eat and drink, and shower on the rare occasion. And that was only because of...

The month after that, she'd been forced into life again. Her mother had signed her up for a job, which Rose desperately needed. So, she had cast anything - thoughts, emotions, memories - involving  _him_ into the back of her mind, where she locked them away for a solid three months.

She was almost back to herself the fourth month. Almost. She was still Rose Tyler on the outside, but on the inside, there was a large, gaping hole, and it could no longer be filled. And, she no longer tried.

Rose pauses in the middle of the pavement and lets out a deep breath, reaching up to rub at her forehead. Her heart is pounding - she must have been walking quicker than she had thought. She glances around, frowning and trying to work out where she had ended up. As it slowly dawns on her, Rose begins to feel sick. This is  _not_  where she wants to be, at all.

The colour drains from her face and she clenches her jaw, wrapping her arms around her waist. Her lips press together into a line as her eyes scan the single word on the sign, over and over.

Cemetery.

And not just any cemetery... it won't be 'just a cemetery' to her for the rest of her life. Because  _he_  is here. There's a lump forming in her throat, and it suddenly seems a lot colder outside. Her eyes are stinging and she fights to hold back tears. She hasn't cried since...

Rose hasn't actually cried since the night the Doctor died. She isn't sure why. All she knows is standing here, right now, is giving her the worst feeling in the pit of her stomach, and the only thing she can identify it as is guilt. Guilt because she didn't try to save him. Guilt because she just sat there and cried. Guilt because she has never actually visited his grave.

And she knows she should have, at least once, but she could never bring herself to. She found that she never really wanted to remember the Doctor. He had been everything to her, and she had found herself trying to deny not only that he was dead, but that he ever existed in her life.

Before she can second guess herself, Rose walks through the entrance. Her jaw is beginning to hurt from holding back tears. She walks unsteadily down the path, knowing exactly where the Doctor's grave stone is (in the back, separated from all the rest - because who would want a criminal to be buried near the "good" people?). She stops a few feet away from it, feeling as if she's going to collapse. Her body is stiff and her head is pounding and she's panicking, she wants to leave, but can't. She can't, no, not now. Not when she's so close.

Would the Doctor have been upset that she had never paid him a visit...?

In reality, probably not. He would have been happy and relieved that she was trying to live her life, without him. Yet, for some reason, she feels as if he would have scowled upon her. Sucking in a deep breath, Rose settles down in front of the grave, blinking.

It's just a stub in the ground, a shiny, marble stub. There's no writing on it, nothing to say that this is his.

She hates that. She hates that it's so... so simple. That wasn't the Doctor - he was far from being a simple person. No - a grave like this wasn't going to work for her. Her eyes scour the ground, and eventually she picks up a small, sharp stone. Biting her quivering lip, Rose bends over, placing one hand firmly on the gravestone. Her palm is sweating, and it slips a little. Sniffing, she wipes off her hand, then places it in a better position. Then, in the corner, she begins to scratch two, simple words onto the stone.

Words that would mean nothing to anyone, save herself.

' _My Thief_ '. The letters are messy and uneven, but they're readable.

Her hand shakes as she scratches it into the stone. In fact, her whole body is shaking. She sits back heavily, finally letting the tears slip down her red cheeks. Her stomach churns and she tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Quickly, she puts a hand to her mouth to muffle a sob. She heaves for air, her chest beginning to hurt. Her throat is tight and she can't see past the liquid swimming in her eyes.

She blinks it away, wiping the wet from her cheeks. "Alright..." she says aloud, fixing her gaze on the ground in front of her. In the brief moment, she lets herself remember. She lets herself remember the way he'd held her, like she was the only thing in his life that mattered. How he'd grin at her, and dance her around the living room, throwing his head back in laughter as she stumbled around. The grin he'd give her when she'd said just the right thing, or the sneaky arm he'd wind around her waist while they were walking.

She inhales; exhales. She unsteadily shifts so that she's sitting with her legs crossed. Quickly, she runs through her day, making sure to note tiny details; times, flavours, scents, everything. The Doctor had loved the longer tales. "Alright, Doctor," she whispers, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'm going to tell you a story."


End file.
